"Badly as you've treated me, I'd rather trust you than that shifty plausible fellow there. Just look at me, Dick, and then say if you can let this cruelty go on. If you knew all I've suffered since I have been among those infernal boys, you would pity me, you would indeed.... If you send me back there again, it will kill me.... You know as well as I do that it is worse for me than ever it could be for you.... You can't really justify yourself because of a thoughtless wish of mine, spoken without the least intention of being taken at my word. Dick, I may not have shown as much affection for you as I might have done, but I don't think I deserve all this. Be generous with me now, and I swear you will never regret it." Dick's lips moved; there really was something like pity and repentance in his face, muddled and dazed as his general expression was by his recent over-indulgence, but he said nothing. "Give papa the Stone by all means," sneered Paradine. "If you do, he will find some one to wish the pair of you back again, and then, back you go to school again, the laughing-stock of everybody, you silly young cub!" "Don't listen to him, Dick," urged Paul. "Give it to me, for Heaven's sake; if you let him have it, he'll use it to ruin us all." But Dick turned his white face to the rival claimants and said, getting the words out with difficulty: "Papa, I'm shorry. It is a shame. If I had the Shtone, I really would give it you, upon my word-an'-honour I would. But--but, now I can't ever give it up to you. It'sh gone. Losht!" "Lost!" cried Marmaduke. "When, where? When do you last recollect seeing it? you must know!" "In the morning," said Dick, twirling his chain, where part of the cheap gilt fastening still hung. "No; afternoon. I don't know," he added helplessly. Paul sank down on a chair with a heartbroken groan; a moment ago he had felt himself very near his goal, he had regained something of his old influence over Dick, he had actually managed to touch his heart--and now it was all in vain! Paradine's jaw fell; he, too, had had his dreams of doing wonderful things with the talisman after he had cajoled Dick to part with it. Whether the restoration of his brother-in-law formed any part of his programme, it is better, perhaps, not to inquire. His dreams were scattered now; the Stone might be anywhere, buried in London mud, lying on railway ballast, or ground to powder by cartwheels. There was little chance, indeed, that even the most liberal rewards would lead to discovery. He swore long and comprehensively.