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is becoming scarcer every day as the world grows nearer the Christian ideal, thank Heaven!”
    â€œSometimes it seems to me to be growing farther from the Christian ideal instead of nearer.” The clergyman sighed. “I am going through a terrible experience now, Aubrey. I must confess it is a great trial to my faith.”
    Instantly Todmarsh’s face assumed its most sympathetic expression.
    â€œI am so sorry to hear it, Uncle James. Do tell me about it, if it would be any relief to you. Sit down”—as they entered the refectory—“what is it? Tony?”
    But the rector put aside the proffered chair.
    â€œNo, no. I must see all I can of the Settlement. No, it has nothing to do with Tony, I am thankful to say. He is to the full as much bewildered as I am myself. It is the emeralds—the cross!”
    â€œThe Collyer cross?” Aubrey exclaimed. “What of that?”
    â€œWell—er, circumstances arose that made it—er—desirable that I should ascertain its value. I took it to your Uncle Luke, thinking that he might be able to help me, and he discovered that the stones were paste.”
    â€œImpossible!” Aubrey stared at his uncle. “I cannot believe it. But, pardon me, Uncle James, I don’t think that either you or Uncle Luke are very learned with regard to precious stones. I expect it is all a mistake. The Collyer emeralds are genuine enough!”
    â€œOh, there is no mistake,” Mr. Collyer said positively. “I had them examined by a well-known expert this morning. They are paste—not particularly good paste, either. If I had known rather more about such things, I might have discovered the substitution sooner. Not that it would have made much difference! You are wrong about your Uncle Luke, though, Aubrey. He has an immense fund of information about precious stones. He told me that he was about to dispose of—”
    â€œHush! Don’t mention it!” Aubrey interrupted sharply. “I beg your pardon, Uncle James, but it is so much safer not to mention names, especially in a place like this. But what in the world can have become of the emeralds? One would have been inclined to think it was the work of the Yellow Gang. But they seem to confine their activities to London. And how could it have been effected in peaceful little Wexbridge? Now—what is that?” as a loud knock and ring resounded simultaneously through the house. “Tony, I declare!” as after a pause they heard voices in the hall outside.
    A moment later Hopkins opened the door and announced “Mr. Anthony Collyer.”
    â€œHello, dad, I guessed I should find you here,” the new-comer began genially. “Aubrey, old chap, is the gentleman who announced me one of your hopefuls? Because if so I can’t congratulate you on his phiz. Sort of thing the late Madame Tussaud would have loved for her Chamber of Horrors, don’t you know!”
    â€œHopkins is a most worthy fellow,” Aubrey returned impressively. “One of the most absolutely trustworthy men I have. There is nothing more unsafe than taking a prejudice at first sight, Tony. If you would only—”
    â€œDare say there isn’t,” Tony returned nonchalantly. “You needn’t pull up your socks over the chap, Aubrey. I’ll take your word for it that he possesses all the virtues under the sun. I only say, he don’t look it! Come along, dad, I have ordered a morsel of lunch at a little pub I know of, and while you are eating it I will a scheme unfold that I know will meet with your approval.”
    The rector did not look as if he shared this conviction.
    â€œWell, my boy, I have been telling my troubles to Aubrey. The emeralds—”
    â€œOh, bother the emeralds, dad! It is the business of the police to find them, not yours and mine or Aubrey’s.”
    Anthony Collyer was just a very ordinary type of the young Englishman of