"Philip Morland--that is the only name by which I know you--the authorities have come to the conclusion that your story is right. You have unquestionably found a deposit of diamonds, and although this necessarily exists on some person's property, there is no evidence to show whose property it is. It may be your own. It may be situated beyond the confines of this kingdom. There are many hypotheses, each of which may be true; but, in any event, if others lay claim to this treasure trove--and I warn you that the Crown has a right in such a matter--the issue is a civil and not a criminal one. Therefore, you are discharged, and your property is now handed back to you intact." A clerk placed before Philip his parcel of diamonds, his key, the rusty knife, the pieces of string, and the two buttons--truly a motley collection. The boy was pale, and his voice somewhat tremulous as he asked: "May I go now, sir?" Mr. Abingdon leaned back in his chair and passed his hand over his face to conceal a smile. "I have something more to say to you," he answered. "It is an offense against the law to withhold your name and address. I admit the powerful motives which actuated you, so I make the very great concession that your earlier refusal will be overlooked if you privately tell me that which you were unwilling to state publicly." Philip instantly decided that it would be foolish in the extreme to refuse this offer. He pocketed his diamonds, looked the magistrate straight in the face, and said: "I will do that, sir. As the information is to be given to you alone, may I write it?" The policemen and other officials sniggered at this display of caution, but the magistrate nodded, and Philip wrote his name and address on a sheet of foolscap, which he folded before handing it to the usher. To his great surprise, Mr. Abingdon placed the paper in a pocketbook without opening it. "I will make no use of this document unless the matter comes before me again officially. I wish to point out to you that I have brought you from prison at the earliest possible moment, and have spared you the publicity which your movements would attract were your case settled in open court. You are not aware, perhaps, that you figure largely in the eyes of the public at this moment. There are newspapers which would give a hundred pounds to get hold of you. There are thieves who would shadow your every movement, waiting for a chance to waylay and rob you--murder you, if necessary. I have taken precautions, therefore, to safeguard you, at least within the precincts of this court, but I cannot be responsible beyond its limits. May I ask what you intend to do?" Philip, proud in the knowledge that he was cleared of all dishonor, was at no loss for words now.