Lord Galton was pleased with himself; he saw his way fairly straight before him, but he would do nothing hastily ... which might flurry the head of the house.... It would be a wise and a small risk, to bide his time. He would bide it till the noon post had come in, until his host had looked at his letters. Then only would he take the next step in his programme. He sauntered out again into the Park, where he would feel the strain of waiting less, with a walk to occupy him. He looked back over his shoulder when he had got round towards the lodge, and saw for one moment through the window of the library his aged relative pottering among the shelves. He was safe till lunch. And Lord Galton, though all alone, smiled. * * * * * * * The young man walked briskly for a couple of miles, thinking clearly and concisely. He came back to Paulings through the mill gate, up by the stables, walking strongly and well. He knew exactly what he had to do. He met one of the servants, and asked where Mr. de Bohun might be, and was told he was in the garage; sought him there, and found him giving orders about a repair, and trying--unsuccessfully--to understand whether the proud chauffeur were lying or no. He went straight up to his cousin, who turned round at hearing his step, and said in a very low voice, and quickly: "Let me see you in your study alone for a moment. It is urgent!" And the Home Secretary, glancing up hurriedly with a half-frightened look, said, "Yes? Certainly! Come." CHAPTER FIVE Lord Galton stood by the Home Secretary in his study, looked round suddenly, and said, "May I lock the door?" locked it without leave and then came back and began talking. The young fellow talked as impressively as ever he had talked when he was giving instructions to a jockey, or rather, to the go-between who took the risk. He knew how to talk, as do most men who are successful in giving instructions to jockeys. His sentences came, weighty, short, decisive, and each had its effect. Men said he would have done well in the House of Commons, but the men who have said that do not know the House of Commons. Yes, he would have done well in the House of Commons: not by oratory, but by what I may call the Attaboy side of his character. He began: "Humphrey, I'm going to tell you about the emerald. I think I know where it is." The Home Secretary looked up, startled; but he did not interrupt. "I want to begin by saying that I know I am myself under suspicion." "Oh, my dear Tommy," began his unfortunate host. But the younger man put up a hand like a slab of stone.