Snow.  The odd thing is, sir, that he persists in sayin’ he took the box himself.

Barthwick.  Took the box himself! [He smiles.] What does he think to gain by that?

Snow.  He says the young gentleman was intoxicated last night

     [Jack stops the cracking of a nut, and looks at snow.]

     [Barthwick, losing his smile, has put his wine-glass down;
     there is a silence—­snow, looking from face to face, remarks]

—­took him into the house and gave him whisky; and under the influence of an empty stomach the man says he took the box.

Mrs. Barthwick.  The impudent wretch!

Barthwick.  D’ you mean that he—­er—­intends to put this forward to-morrow?

Snow.  That’ll be his line, sir; but whether he’s endeavouring to shield his wife, or whether [he looks at jack] there’s something in it, will be for the magistrate to say.

Mrs. Barthwick. [Haughtily.] Something in what?  I don’t understand you.  As if my son would bring a man like that into the house!

Barthwick. [From the fireplace, with an effort to be calm.] My son can speak for himself, no doubt.  Well, Jack, what do you say?

Mrs. Barthwick. [Sharply.] What does he say?  Why, of course, he says the whole story’s stuff!

Jack. [Embarrassed.] Well, of course, I—­of course, I don’t know anything about it.

Mrs. Barthwick.  I should think not, indeed! [To Snow.] The man is an audacious ruffian!

Barthwick. [Suppressing jumps.] But in view of my son’s saying there’s nothing in this—­this fable—­will it be necessary to proceed against the man under the circumstances?

Snow.  We shall have to charge him with the assault, sir.  It would be as well for your son to come down to the Court.  There’ll be a remand, no doubt.  The queer thing is there was quite a sum of money found on him, and a crimson silk purse.

     [Barthwick starts; jack rises and sits dozen again.]

I suppose the lady has n’t missed her purse?

Barthwick. [Hastily.] Oh, no!  Oh!  No!

Jack.  No!

Mrs. Barthwick. [Dreamily.] No! [To snow.] I ’ve been inquiring of the servants.  This man does hang about the house.  I shall feel much safer if he gets a good long sentence; I do think we ought to be protected against such ruffians.

Barthwick.  Yes, yes, of course, on principle but in this case we have a number of things to think of. [To snow.] I suppose, as you say, the man must be charged, eh?

Snow.  No question about that, sir.

Barthwick. [Staring gloomily at jack.] This prosecution goes very much against the grain with me.  I have great sympathy with the poor.  In my position I ’m bound to recognise the distress there is amongst them.  The condition of the people leaves much to be desired.  D’ you follow me?  I wish I could see my way to drop it.