"
Mr. Bundercombe once more winked at me solemnly over the head of my
stricken connection.
"I quite agree with you, Paul," he said. "Under the circumstances we will
let nothing happen to disturb the festivities and harmony of the day. Lord
Porthoning certainly will not object if we just satisfy ourselves that the
brooch was the only instance of--momentary aberration; shall we call it?"
If Lord Porthoning's attitude had been a little mysterious before it was
absolutely incomprehensible now. He stood suddenly upright and brandished
his cane over his head.
"If either of you touch me," he shouted fiercely, "I'll break your skulls!
This is blackmail! I'll send for the police! Let me go!"
His sudden fit of anger, justifiable though it certainly seemed on the
face of it, nevertheless took both Mr. Bundercombe and myself by surprise.
The former, indeed, was in the act of opening the door, when he paused.
Once more he caught my connection by the collar and thrust his hand into
the other coat pocket. When he withdrew it it was filled with rings, a
bracelet and a pendant.
He threw them silently--a glittering heap--on the table. Without a word he
thrust his hand in once more and brought out a little black ivory carving
of a Japanese monk, which was perhaps one of the most valuable of my
offerings.
Pages:
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284