“I mean that you, knowing I have but one object in submitting to association with you in any way, to wit, the recovery of the jewels of Madame de Montalais and their restoration to that lady, have not had sufficient wit to prevent my securing those jewels under your very noses.”

“You mean to say you’ve stolen them?”

Lanyard nodded.  “They are at present in my possession—­if that confesses an act of theft.”

Monk laughed discordantly.  “Then I say you’re a liar, Monsieur the Lone Wolf, as well as a fool!” His fist smote the desk again.  “The Montalais jewels are here.”

Lanyard shrugged.

“When did you lift them?” Phinuit demanded with sarcasm.  “Tell us that!”

Lanyard smiled an exasperating smile, lounged low in his chair, and looked at the deck beams—­taking occasion to note that the tell-tale had swung to true northwest.  Ca va bien!

“Why, you insane impostor!” Monk stormed—­“I had that box in my own hands no later than this afternoon.”

Without moving, Lanyard directed his voice toward the ceiling.

“Did you by any chance open it and see what was inside?”

There was no answer, and though he was careful not to betray any interest by watching them, he was well aware that looks of alarm and suspicion were being exchanged by those three.  So much for enjoying the prestige of a stupendously successful criminal past!  A single thought was in the mind of Liane Delorme, Captain Monk, and Mr. Phinuit:  With the Lone Wolf, nothing was impossible.

Liane Delorme said abruptly, in a choking voice:  “Open the safe, please, Captain Monk.”

“I’ll do nothing of the sort.”

“Go on,” Phinuit advised—­“make sure.  If it’s true, we get them back, don’t we?  If it isn’t, we show him up for a pitiful bluff.”

“It’s a dodge,” Monk declared, “to get the jewels where he can lay hands on them.  The safe stays shut.”

“Open it, I beg you!” Liane implored in tremulous accents.

“No—­”

“Why not?” Phinuit argued.  “What can he do?  I’ve got him covered.”

“And I,” Lanyard interjected softly, “as you all know, am unarmed.”

“Please!” Liane insisted.

There was a pause which ended in a sullen grunt from Monk.  Lanyard smiled cheerfully and sat up in his chair, watching the captain while he unlocked the door in the pedestal and with shaking fingers manipulated the combination dial.  Liane Delorme left her chair to stand nearby, in undissembled anxiety.  Only Phinuit remained as he had been, lounging back and watching Lanyard narrowly, his automatic pistol dangling between his knees.

Lanyard offered him a pleasant smile.  Phinuit scowled forbiddingly in response.

Monk swung open the safe-door, seized the metal despatch-box by the handle, and set it upon the desk with a bang.  Then, extracting his pocket key-ring, he selected the proper key and made several attempts to insert it in the slot of the lock.  But his confidence was so shaken, his morale so impaired by Lanyard’s sublime effrontery added to his recent shocking experience, that the gaunt hands trembled beyond his control, and it was several seconds before he succeeded.