The voice slowly proceeded—
"These are my instructions to my nephew, Alan Craig, respecting the diamonds once mine, now his; and if Alan has not returned, to my servant Caw, and failing him, to my lawyer, Mr. George Harvie, who shall then open the letter marked 'last resort,' which I leave in his care. But I make this record in the full belief that my nephew lives and will hear my words." A pause.
Bullard threw himself on the couch. "'His master's voice, Caw,'" he sneered most bitterly.
No one answered save the impulsive Marjorie.
"Cad!" she said clearly.
The voice resumed:
"Alan, you will have the diamonds divided expertly and without delay into three portions of equal value, and you will hand one portion to Miss Marjorie Handyside, the second to Miss Doris Lancaster, yourself retaining the third. I make no restrictions of any sort. I also desire you to present the pendulum intact to Monsieur Guidet, the maker of the clock, provided he has proved faithful. Finally, I ask you to present to my one-time friend, Francis Bullard, the Green Box left in the deep drawer of my writing-table, unless he has already obtained possession of the same, along with the key which Mr. Harvie will provide. And may God bless and deal gently with us all!—even with the traitor in our midst. Farewell."
There was another silence. Doris was kneeling, her arms round her father, as though to protect him, and Bullard had risen; the others had scarcely changed their positions.
Mr. Harvie cleared his throat. "Really, my dear Mr. Craig," he said, "all this is most interesting, but, I beg leave to say, extremely irregular. And—and where are the—"
"I almost forgot to say," replied the voice—and you might have fancied a repressed chuckle—"that the diamonds are deposited, in my nephew's name, with the Bank of Scotland, Glasgow. Once more, farewell."