Tom came sleepily stumbling to his room
later. I put my head out. "Where is Lord Carwitchet?"
"Haven't you seen him? He left us hours ago. Not come home, eh? Well,
he's welcome to stay away. I don't want to see more of him." Tom's brow
was dark and his voice surly. "I gave him to understand as much." Whatever
had happened, Tom was evidently too disgusted to explain just then.
I went back to my fire unaccountably relieved, and brewed myself another
and a stronger brew. It warmed me this time, but excited me foolishly.
There must be some way out of the difficulty. I felt now as if I could
almost see it if I gave my mind to it. Why--suppose--there might be no
difficulty after all! The bishop was a nervous old gentleman. He might
have been mistaken all through, Bogaerts might have been mistaken, I
might--no. I could not have been mistaken--or I thought not. I fidgeted
and fumed and argued with myself till I found I should have no peace of
mind without a look at the stone in my possession, and I actually went to
the safe and took the case out.
The sapphire certainly looked different by lamplight. I sat and stared,
and all but overpersuaded my better judgment into giving it a verdict.
Bogaerts's mark--I suddenly remembered it. I took my magnifier and held
the pendant to the light. There, scratched upon the stone, was the Greek
Beta! There came a tap on my door, and before I could answer, the handle
turned softly and Lord Carwitchet stood before me.
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