Why Severac Bablon desired him to inspect the famous Jesson collection he could not imagine; and that part of his instructions: "Decide to accept a cheque," seemed to presume somewhat generously upon Sheard's persuasive eloquence. The re-opening of the closed ward was a good and worthy object, and the sum of ten, or even twenty thousand pounds, one which Sir Leopold Jesson well could afford. But he did not remember to have heard that the salving of derelict hospitals was one of Sir Leopold's hobbies. Moreover, he considered the whole thing a piece of presumption upon the part of his extraordinary acquaintance. Why should he run about London at the behest of Severac Bablon? "Eleven-thirty results!" came the sing-song of a newsboy. And Sheard slipped his hand in his pocket for a coin. As he did so, the boy paused directly outside the house. "Robbery at the British Museum! Eleven-thirty!" His heart gave a sudden leap, and he cast a covert glance towards his wife. She was deep in a new novel. Without a word, Sheard went to the door, and walking down to the gate, bought a paper. The late news was very brief. BRITISH MUSEUM MYSTERY "An incredibly mysterious burglary was carried out last night at the British Museum. By some means at present unexplained the Head of Caesar has been removed from its pedestal and stolen, and the world-famous Hamilton Vase (valued at L30,000) is also missing. The burglar has left no trace behind him, but as we go to press the police report an important clue." Sheard returned to the house. Seated in his study with the newspaper and Severac Bablon's letter before him, he strove to arrange his ideas in order, to settle upon a plan of action--to understand. That the "important clue" would lead to the apprehension of the real culprit he did not believe for a moment. Severac Bablon, unless Sheard were greatly mistaken, stood beyond the reach of the police measures. But what was the meaning of this crass misuse of his mysterious power? How could it be reconciled with his assurances of the previous night? Finally, what was the meaning of his letter? He wished him to interview Sir Leopold Jesson, for some obscure reason. So much was evident. But by what right did he impose that task upon him? Sheard was nonplussed, and had all but decided not to go, when the closing lines of the letter again caught his eye. "Although Brugsch's book is elementary, there is something more behind it----" A sudden idea came into his head, an unpleasant idea, and with it, a memory.