"If I can trust you with the diamonds—and I tell you that no one knows of their existence here excepting those two men and yourself—I can surely trust you to obey—not a master's order, but a dying man's request. Later on you will understand everything. Give me your word that you will do nothing violent to secure what you may consider the safety of that Green Box. … Come, Caw."
"Will the diamonds—excuse the question—belong to Mr. Alan?"
"That is a question that shall be answered when the clock stops.
Your word?"
"I am bound to trust to your wisdom, sir," said Caw, slowly. "I promise, sir. But if Mr. Bullard gives me a chance apart from diamonds, I hope—"
"I hope nothing may happen to Mr. Bullard before the clock stops," said Christopher firmly. "And now I think that is all. Other details you will find in your written instructions. Give me some of that medicine—five drops—quickly!"
Caw sprang up, ran to the door and switched on the shaded light over the table, ran back and administered the dose. Then with something like a sob he cried: "Mr. Craig, oh, my dear master, I can't stand it any longer," and pressed one of the white buttons.
"All right, Caw, all right," said Christopher kindly—and the glass fell from his fingers. He did not appear to notice the mishap. "I'm afraid Handyside will be annoyed, but I had to get the whole business finished."
"Don't exhaust yourself, sir. Just try to think that everything will be done as you wish."
"One thing more—failing the doctor, you may trust Miss Marjorie
Handyside in an emergency. And, Caw, don't forget—"
The door in the back wall opened noiselessly; and a tall bearded man in tweeds, with the complexion of an outdoor worker, entered. Closing the door he came quickly to the table.