"I don't understand it. I thought he would insist upon what he calls a restitution of the property."
"Perhaps, after all," said Nick, "he isn't so far off his base on the ghost question as you think he is."
"Don't you deceive yourself about that. He is just as sure that his aunt's spirit removed those jewels as you are that that house is resting on its foundations.
"And I wouldn't try to shake his belief just now," continued Horace, seriously. "Simply say nothing about the affair this evening. Talk about something else to him. Stay with us as long as you can, and quietly look the ground over. Then tell me privately what you think."
This advice seemed good to Nick. He passed a quiet evening in the house, and nobody but Mrs. Pond referred to the robberies. Horace managed to quiet her quickly.
But the next morning after breakfast she came to Nick with a very long face.
"My father has been talking to me," she said, "and I'm going to lose those jewels surely, unless you do something and do it very quickly. I don't care for their value, but they're mine by right, and I mean to keep them if I can. But, of course, I can't bear to make my father's life miserable. It will probably end by my compelling my husband to let me give them up."
Nick had his doubts about the possibility of such a thing, and they were made certainties very soon afterward.
Mr. Pond arrived unexpectedly. When the story was told him, he "danced the war-dance," as our young friend Patsy might have expressed it.
"You don't seem to realize the importance of this matter," he exclaimed. "Why, it's a million-dollar robbery, that's what it is! If we give up the jewels, the colonel will give us their value. By jingo, he'll have to.