He put the cashbox on the table, taking it into his left hand from his father.

Taverner went to it and examined it. 'Yes,' he said slowly, 'this is the stolen box.'

'The lock is uninjured, it is fast,' said Charles; 'but I can tell you how to open it. "Ebal" is the word this year, and "Onam" was last year's word. Try the letters of the lock and the box will fly open. I know; Mrs. Veale told me. A reg'lar bad un she be, and how she has worreted me the time I've been here!—at ninepence, and Mrs. Veale not even good-looking.'

'How about the five-pound note?' asked Langford, looking hard at Charles from under his contracted heavy brows. 'You can't deny you had that.'

'What five-pound note?—what five-pound note have I had from you?'

'The note you gave us, Charles,' explained his father.

'Oh, that. Did it come from your box? I did not know it; Mrs. Veale gave it me. Now, don't you glow'r at me that way!' This was to the housekeeper, who had turned her white, quivering face towards him. 'Now don't you try to wriggle or shiver yourself out of my hold, for go you don't; as you couldn't catch me, I've caught you, and to justice I'll bring you; a designing, harassing, sweethearting old female, you be!' He gripped her so hard that she exclaimed with pain. 'And to lay it on me when I was gone! To make out I—that am innocent as the angels in heaven—was a thief! And I, a Luxmore of Coombe Park, and a hero of the Afghan War!—I, that carried off the sandal-wood gates of Somnath! I, a thief! I, indeed! Mrs. Veale gave me, off and on, money when I was short—I wasn't very flush on ninepence a day. A man of my position and bringing up and military tastes can't put up well with ninepence. I only accepted her money as a loan; and when she let me have a five-pound note, I gave her a promise to pay for it when I came into my property. How was I to know that five pound was not hers? I suppose, by the way you ask, it was not?'

'No,' said Langford, 'it was not; it was taken from my box.'

'That is like her—a bad un down to the soles of her feet. Wanted to mix me up with it and have evidence against me. I reckon I've turned the tables on the old woman—considerably.'

'What do you say to this?' asked Taverner, directing his keen eyes on her face. She was flickering so that it was impossible to catch her eyes. Her face was as though seen through the hot air over a kiln.