“Hush! Don't mention it!” Aubrey interrupted sharply. “I beg your pardon, Uncle James, but it is so much safer not to mention names, especially in a place like this. But what in the world can have become of the emeralds? One would have been inclined to think it was the work of the Yellow Gang. But they seem to confine their activities to London. And how could it have been effected in peaceful little Wexbridge? Now—what is that?” as a loud knock and ring resounded simultaneously through the house. “Tony, I declare!” as after a pause they heard voices in the hall outside.
A moment later Hopkins opened the door and announced “Mr. Anthony Collyer.”
“Hello, dad, I guessed I should find you here,” the new-comer began genially. “Aubrey, old chap, is the gentleman who announced me one of your hopefuls? Because if so I can't congratulate you on his phiz. Sort of thing the late Madame Tussaud would have loved for her Chamber of Horrors, don't you know!”
“Hopkins is a most worthy fellow,” Aubrey returned impressively. “One of the most absolutely trustworthy men I have. There is nothing more unsafe than taking a prejudice at first sight, Tony. If you would only——”
“Dare say there isn't,” Tony returned nonchalantly. “You needn't pull up your socks over the chap, Aubrey. I'll take your word for it that he possesses all the virtues under the sun. I only say, he don't look it! Come along, dad, I have ordered a morsel of lunch at a little pub I know of, and while you are eating it I will a scheme unfold that I know will meet with your approval.”
The rector did not look as if he shared this conviction.
“Well, my boy, I have been telling my troubles to Aubrey. The emeralds——”
“Oh, bother the emeralds, dad! It is the business of the police to find them, not yours and mine or Aubrey's.”
Anthony Collyer was just a very ordinary type of the young Englishman of to-day, well-groomed, well set up. There was little likeness to his father about his clear-cut features, his merry, blue eyes or his lithe, active form. The pity of it was that the last few years of idleness had blurred the clearness of his skin, had dulled his eyes and added just a suspicion of heaviness to the figure which ought to have been in the very pink of condition. Tony Collyer had let himself run to seed of late and looked it and knew it. To-day, however, there was a new look of purpose about his face. His mouth was set in fresh, strong lines, and his eyes met his father's firmly.
“I hoped you would both lunch with me,” Aubrey interposed hastily. “I am sure if you could throw your trouble aside you would enjoy one of our Community meals, Uncle James. The fare is plain, but abundant, and the spirit that prevails seems to bless it all. You would find it truly interesting.”