"Sir Leopold Jesson!" cried Crofter angrily, "you have said more than enough! Your hobby has become a mania, sir! How you obtained possession of the vase I do not know, nor do I know how my friend has traced the theft to you; least of all how this scandal is to be hushed up. But have the decency to admit facts! There is no defence, absolutely!" "What do you want?" said Jesson tersely. "This is a cunning trap--and I've fallen right into it!" "You have!" said Crofter grimly. "I must congratulate my friend on a very smart piece of detective work!" "What do you want?" repeated Jesson, moistening his dry lips. His quick mind had been at work since the stolen vase was discovered in his possession, and although he knew himself the victim of an amazing plot, he also recognised that rebellion was out of the question. As Crofter had said, there was no defence. "Suppose," suggested Sheard, "you authorise the announcement in the _Gleaner_ to which I have already referred? I, for my part, will undertake to return the vase to the proper authorities and to keep your name out of the matter entirely. Would you agree to keep silent, Crofter?" "Can you manage what you propose?" "I can!" answered Sheard, confidently. "All right!" said Crofter slowly. "It's connivance, but in a good cause!" "I shall make the cheque payable to the hospital!" said Jesson, significantly. Sheard stared for a moment, then, as the insinuation came home to his mind: "How dare you!" he cried hotly. "Do you take us for thieves?" "I hardly know what to take you for," replied the other. "Your proceedings are unique." CHAPTER V A MYSTIC HAND "It amounts," said J. J. Oppner, the lord of Wall Street, "to a panic. No man of money is safe. I ain't boilin' over with confidence in Scotland Yard, and I've got some Agency boys here in London with me." "A panic, eh?" grunted Baron Hague, Teutonically. "So you vear this Bablon, eh?" "A bit we do," drawled Oppner, "and then some. After that a whole lot, and we're well scared. He held me up at my Canadian mills for a pile; but I've got wise to him, and if he crowds me again he's a full-blown genius." Mrs. Rohscheimer's dinner party murmured sympathetically. "Of course you have heard, Baron," said the hostess, "that in his outrage here--here, in Park Lane!--he was assisted by no fewer than thirty accomplices?" "Dirty aggomblices, eh? Dirty?" "Dirty's the word!" growled Mr. Oppner. "The wonder is," said Sir Richard Haredale, "that a rogue with so many assistants has not been betrayed." To those present at the Rohscheimer board this subject, indeed, was one of quite extraordinary interest, in view of the fact that it was only a few days since the affair of the dramatic ball. Sixteen diners there were, and in order to appreciate the electric atmosphere which prevailed in the airy salon, let us survey the board. Reading from left to right, as in the case of society wedding groups, the diners were: