"For myself and Clara," admitted Boldini, shamelessly. "I hated the Anarchists, and grasped the opportunity to be free from them. I sold out the stocks and shares, and transferred the proceeds to my real name at the Crédit Lyonnais. I have the twenty thousand pounds here in circular notes, because I have to give them to Semberry to-morrow." "Why did you not give them to-day?" "Because I would only give them to him in return for the sandal-wood box and the clothes of Carson--which it contains." "Why do you want that chest?" Boldini showed himself in his true colours. "I like Carson's clothes," said he, with the simplicity of a child. "He had nice clothes. I am to have them to-morrow, and then I will pay him the twenty thousand pounds." "I am afraid you will have to forego both those pleasures," said Aldean, grimly. "Your vanity must, in this instance, be sacrificed to your safety. I will trouble you to hand over those circular notes." "They are at my hotel," said Boldini, rising with alacrity. "Shall I go for them?" "Oh, pray don't trouble. Miss Trall can go for the notes." Clara looked at Boldini, and Boldini looked at Clara. Aldean made a shrewd guess that the man was attempting a trick to gain time, for every now and then his hand wandered mechanically to his breast pocket. It was probable that the notes were there. Jim expected a fight for the spoil; but Clara laid down her arms without a murmur, and instructed Boldini to do the same. "Give him the notes," said she, curtly. One by one they were counted and laid on the table before Aldean. Boldini winced as if he were having a tooth drawn. Olive counted them and found them correct. There were twenty notes of the value of one thousand pounds each--printed in francs on the Crédit Lyonnais paper. "Good," said Aldean, with a nod. "Now for your cheque-book." "I won't! I won't!" cried Boldini, childishly. "The rest of the money is mine." "We need not argue that question over again," said Olive, coldly. "Write a cheque in my name for thirty thousand pounds--that is, seven hundred and fifty thousand francs. If not, Lord Aldean shall call up the police." "Oh, Clara! what shall I----" "Give it to them," she interrupted fiercely. "What is the use of fighting?" With tears of rage in his eyes Boldini wrote the cheque and gave it to Olive. She looked at it with a nod, and passed it on to Aldean. "So far so good," said the latter, cheerfully. "Now, Signor Boldini, sign this confession." Without a word the man took pen and signed it, Jim attesting it with a flourish. "I think that is all," he remarked, rising. "You can go now." "Am I not to sign it?" asked Clara, scowling. "There is no necessity. Beyond that you are a spy, you are of small account." "I am of this account," said Clara, furiously, "that Carlo is my husband." "Your husband!" exclaimed Olive. "Yes; we were married a year ago in St. Chad's Church, Marylebone. Carlo Boldini to Clara Trall. I am his wife--not you."