Hope stared at the great jewel and then at the soldier.

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.  “How the dickens could it be found in a sentry box?  You must be making a mistake.”

“Not a bit of it.  It was found on the floor of the box by the sentry, as I tell you, and I have sent to consult with you as to how the deuce it got there.”

“Hervey,” muttered Archie, fascinated by the gem.

Random shrugged his square shoulders.

“Catch that Yankee Shylock returning anything he got his grip on, even as a wedding present.”

“A wedding present,” said Hope, more at sea than ever.  “If you don’t mind giving me details, old chap, my head would buzz less.”

“I rather think that it will buzz more,” said Random dryly, and, producing the brown paper in which the gem had been wrapped, and the inscribed paper found within, he related all that had happened.

Archie listened quietly and did not interrupt, but the puzzled look on his face grew more pronounced.

“Well,” ended Random, seeing that no remark was made when he had finished, “what do you think?”

“Lord knows!  I’ll go out of my mind if these sort of things come along.  I am a simple sort of chap, and have no use for mysteries which beat all the detective stories I have ever read.  That sort of thing is all very well in fiction, but in real life—­humph!  What are you going to do?”

“Give back the emerald to Don Pedro.”

“Of course, though, it is given to you for a wedding present.  And then?”

“Then”—­Random stared into the fire—­” I don’t know.  I asked you in to assist me.”

“Willingly; but how?”

Random pondered for a few moments.

“Who sent that emerald to me, do you think?” he asked, looking squarely at the artist.

Hope meditatively turned the jewel in his long fingers.

“Why not ask Mrs. Jasher?” he suggested suddenly.

“No!” Sir Frank shook his head.  “I fancied it might be her, but it cannot be.  If she is guilty—­as she must be, should she have sent the emerald—­she would not part with her plunder when she is so hard up.  I am beginning to believe, Hope, that what she said was true about the letter.”

“How do you mean exactly?”

“That the letter was mere bluff and that she really knows nothing about the crime.  By the way, did Braddock learn anything?”

“Not a thing.  He merely said that the two of them fought.  I expect Braddock stormed and Mrs. Jasher retorted.  Both of them have too much tongue-music to come to any understanding.  By the way—­to echo, your own phrase—­you had better put away this gem or I shall be strangling you myself in order to gain possession of it.  The mere sight of that gorgeous color tempts me beyond my strength.”

Random laughed and locked the jewel in his drawer.  Hope suggested that with such a flimsy lock it was unsafe, but the baronet shook his head.