"Would you not shut off the electric again, Mr. Caw?" the Frenchman eagerly asked.
Caw shook his head. "I was never one for tempting Providence by trying to repeat an immense success. Likely as not, they would fall down the stair instead of into each other's arms."
"Hah! that would not be so pleasing. The broken heart can be repaired, but the broken nose—" Monsieur made an expressive gesture and rose. "But, as you have said, we must hope for the best. It is always well to take an optical view of the future—is it not? And now, Mr. Caw"—he became nervous and produced a jeweller's package—"before I go I give you a small momento. My clock has brought you dangers, for which forgive. We have been allies in the service of my benefactor, Mr. Christopher Craik, and I hope we remain good friends for ever always. Take this, mon ami, but look not at it till I have depart. The description on it I hope you will approve on. But one thing more—I trust you to let me know when the marriage—no, I say the marriages, not singular—are about to go off … Au revoir!"
* * * * *
When Caw opened the package he was amazed to find a very fine gold hunting watch; and he was not a little touched on reading the inscription inside the case.
"To J. Caw from A. Guidet.
To Be Faithful
Is The Best Thing
We Can Do."
"Ay," he murmured ruefully, "but I've made a pretty poor show of it."
* * * * *
At the same hour, in the doctor's study, Marjorie and Alan were awaiting—without any visible impatience—the return of the others for tea. Lancaster and Teddy were still Alan's guests, but Doris was now Marjorie's. On the day following the stoppage of the clock, Mrs. Lancaster, finding it imperative that she should fulfil certain most important social engagements, had returned to London. She left Grey House in ignorance of all that had happened beyond the bare details of the division of the diamonds. Of Bullard's end she did not hear till a week later, and the particulars of his death were as vague as many of the particulars of the man's life. The "accident" had remained undiscovered for a couple of days, and the tides of the Firth had removed much. Mrs. Lancaster had departed with sullen, smouldering eyes. She honestly considered her daughter thankless and undutiful, because the latter had not promised her a share of the diamonds on the spot.
It was of her that Alan and Marjorie had been talking for the past five minutes.