"Then—oh, my God!—Christopher was suspecting us, playing with us, all the time!"
"Keep calm. Remember, Christopher told us we should have our reward—"
"And this is it!" Lancaster groaned.
For the moment Bullard's self-confidence was shaken—but only for the moment. "Listen, Lancaster," he said steadily. "Christopher trusted no man absolutely—and who would, with half a million involved? He may even have doubted Caw. But Christopher was as friendly as ever, and he did not tell us, without meaning something, that the diamonds would be divided into three portions when his cursed clock had stopped. And so I believe that we shall yet get our shares—on a certain condition.—Are you following me?"
Lancaster nodded in vague fashion. "But the condition …"
"Oh, Lord! hasn't it dawned? Why, the shares shall be ours when the clock stops, provided the Green Box, its contents intact, is then in its place in Christopher's study. Doesn't that hold water up to the brim?"
Lancaster turned away his face. He could have cried out.
"And now," said Bullard bitterly, "you've let the Green Box slip through your fingers!"
"Why didn't you tell me all that last night?" cried the ill-starred Lancaster. He dared not tell Bullard that the Green Box was safe in his house. Bullard would never, however great the compensation, forgive trickery against himself; and Bullard's theory remained to be proved. Lancaster's soul now seized on its last hope: that Doris would be able to carry out her plan of conveying the box to Grey House. "Why didn't you tell me last night?" he repeated.
"Is that all you've got to say?" Bullard asked, a sort of snarl in his voice: "And I suppose you still expect me to put you right over that twenty-five thousand pounds!"