Basil nodded absently. "It was a pity she took it out of the box. Of course, that talk of a drawing-power is nonsense." "Perfect nonsense from your material point of view," said the elder brother with a sneer. "But in my opinion some priest who followed snatched the jewel--stole it, in fact, and now has taken it back to Japan." Basil shook his head. "I never heard either at Kitzuki or Kamakura that anyone was suspected. And I don't approve of the word stolen. If, indeed, a priest of the Kitzuki Temple followed the thief and recovered the emerald in the way you state, he had a perfect right to do so." "The emerald is ours," said the Squire, fuming. "Pardon me, uncle, but you know that I have never agreed with you on that point," said Basil significantly. "Amyas Colpster gave the jewel to Queen Elizabeth for a knighthood, so our family has no right to get the emerald back again. Unless, indeed," added the sailor, with an afterthought, "the jewel is freely given; and I don't think, seeing that store is set by it at Kitzuki, that such a gift will be made. But who could have stolen the emerald?" "Miss Carrol suspects Harry Pentreddle," said Theodore, lighting a cigar. "Ah! it might be so. I heard that his ship was touching at Japan. Martha wrote to Hong Kong and told me. But why should he steal it?" "And why should he wish to give it secretly to his mother?" questioned the Squire. "We wish to learn both those things, Basil, my boy." "Ask Harry, then?" "We don't know where he is. He went to Amsterdam, I fancy, when he was last heard of. He can't know that his mother has been murdered, or he would have certainly returned long ago." "He's sure to turn up sooner or later," said Basil easily, and rising to his feet. "Poor Martha! she was a good friend to me. Where is she buried?" "In the churchyard on the moors, beside her husband," said Colpster, also getting on his feet. "I am sorry myself, as Martha was such a good housekeeper. But Patricia is succeeding very well." "And, moreover, is more agreeable to look at," sneered Theodore. "What beastly things you say!" observed his brother sharply. "I haven't seen you for a year, Theodore, but your manners have not improved." "I paid Miss Carrol a compliment." "I think that she can dispense with your compliments," retorted the fiery sailor; "and, in any case, you spoke slightly of the dead. Martha was very dear to me, and should be to you also. When our mother died, Martha stood in her place. Remember that, if you please." "Boys! boys! Don't quarrel the moment you meet," said the Squire. "It's Basil's fault." "It is the fault of your bitter tongue, Theo," said the younger Dane, trying to curb the anger with which his brother always inspired him. "However, I don't wish any ill-feeling. Let us go to the drawing-room and ask Miss Carrol to give us some music."