Then he scribbled a receipt for them, packed them in a little steel box, and carefully locked it with the tiny key upon his chain. That box often contained secrets which, if divulged, would set Europe aflame. "Don't forget my camera next time you come over," Bracondale urged. "And tell Sir Henry that if Bartlett is back from Persia I would like him to run over and report to me." "I won't forget," was Martin's reply; and then, with a word of farewell, he took up his precious despatch-box and left the room. The evening was dark and oppressive, with black clouds threatening thunder. Those hours passed very slowly. Jean tried to read, but was unable. Then she went to the big _salon_ and, seating herself at the grand piano, played snatches of Grand Opera. But she was too anxious, too impatient for midnight to come and end all the suspense. Miss Oliver joined her, as usual, about ten o'clock for half an hour's chat. But the presence of the governess irritated her, and she was glad when she retired. She wondered whether Enid had told her anything. The child's chatter had, indeed, been extremely unfortunate. Eleven o'clock! She sat in her boudoir trying to occupy her mind by writing a letter, but she could not. She had to go through the terrible ordeal of seeing that man again. At one moment she felt impelled to confess all to Bracondale, yet at the next she thought of his honour, and of the child. No, at all hazards, at all costs, even if it cost her her life, she must preserve her secret. For wealth or for position she cared nothing--only for Bracondale's love. The little clock struck the quarter. It wanted fifteen minutes to midnight. With knit brows she rose quickly. The whole household had now retired; all was silence, and she was alone. Outside Ralph was no doubt watching for the light in the little _salon_. She ascended the thickly-carpeted stairs noiselessly, and from the safe in her room took the square morocco box. Then, assuring herself that no servant could be watching, she carried it down to the little _salon_ and, switching on the light, placed the box upon a small Louis Quinze table in the centre of the room. It was a prettily-furnished apartment, with genuine old Louis Quinze furniture. In a corner was a large palm, and upon a side-table a great vase of fresh flowers. The gilt furniture shone beneath the bright light, and the whole had an effect of artistic brilliancy and daintiness. She crossed to the drawn curtains of daffodil plush and, placing her hand within, undid the latch of the long window which led out upon the balcony and pushed it open slightly. Then, recrossing the room, she stood near the door, waiting. There was still time before he was due to enter there and give her the letter in return for the pearls.