"Not a bit of it!" replied Mr. Killick. "And I'll tell you why--that's precisely what I've come all the way from my own comfortable fireside at Stanmore to do! There's no coincidence at all. I've heard the whole story of this Praed Street affair now from these two lads. And I've no more doubt than I have that I see you, that the old pawnbroker whom you knew hereabouts as Daniel Multenius was the same man Daniel Molteno--from whom I bought those rings, years ago! Not the slightest doubt!" None of those present made any remark on this surprising announcement, and Mr. Killick went on. "I was, as some of you may know, in practice in the City--in Moorgate Street, as a matter of fact," he said. "Daniel Molteno was a jeweller in Houndsditch. I occasionally acted for him--professionally. And occasionally when I wanted anything in the way of jewellery, I went to his shop. He was then a man of about fifty, a tall, characteristically Hebraic sort of man, already patriarchal in appearance, though he hadn't a grey hair in his big black beard. He was an interesting man, profoundly learned in the history of precious stones. I remember buying those rings from him very well indeed--I remember, too, what I gave him for them--seventy-five pounds for the two. Those private marks inside them are, of course, his--and so they're just the same as his private marks inside those other rings in the tray. But that's not what I came here to tell you--that's merely preliminary." "Deeply interesting, anyway, sir," observed Ayscough. "And, maybe, very valuable." "Not half so valuable as what I'm going to tell you," replied Mr. Killick, with a dry chuckle, "Now, as I understand it, from young Mr. Purdie's account, you're all greatly excited at present over the undoubted connection with this Praed Street mystery of one Mr. Spencer Levendale, who is, I believe, a very rich man, a resident in one of the best parts of this district, and a Member of Parliament. It would appear from all you've discovered, amongst you, up to now, that Spencer Levendale has been privately mixed up with old Daniel Multenius in some business which seems to be connected with South Africa. Now, attend to what I say:--About the time that I knew Daniel Molteno in Houndsditch, Daniel Molteno had a partner--a junior partner, whose name, however, didn't appear over the shop. He was a much younger man than Daniel--in fact, he was quite a young man--I should say he was then about twenty-three or four--not more. He was of medium height, dark, typically Jewish, large dark eyes, olive skin, good-looking, smart, full of go. And his name--the name I knew him by--was Sam Levin." The other men in the room glanced at each other--and one of them softly murmured what all was thinking. "The same initials!"