moved slowly, cautiously, for between them they carried a heavy and
seemingly fragile object.

"Go ahead," said Christopher, "and let me know when it is finished." He
closed his eyes.

Nearly an hour passed before he opened them in response to his
servant's voice.

"Monsieur has now finished, sir."

He sat up at once. From a drawer he took a large stout envelope already
addressed and sealed with wax.

"Caw, get on your cycle and take this to the post. Have it registered.
And put a chair for Monsieur Guidet--there--no, nearer--that's right.
Order a cab to take Monsieur to the steamer. He and I will have a chat
till you return.... Monsieur, come and sit down."

As Caw left the room the Frenchman turned from his completed handiwork to
accept his patron's invitation. He was a dapper, stout little man, merry
of eye, despite the fact that a couple of months ago he and his family
had been in bitter poverty. He smiled very happily as he took the chair
beside the writing table. He was about to receive the balance of his
account, amounting, according to agreement, to two hundred pounds.

The work done was embodied in the clock and case which now filled,
fitting to a nicety, the niche in the back wall. Outwardly there was
nothing very unusual about the clock itself. A gilt box enclosing the
mechanism and carrying the plain white face, the hands at twelve,