th us, was that dark figure with the bent grey head, and the
twitching elbow. What inhuman hypocrisy, what hateful depth of malice
against his successor must underlie these sinister nocturnal labours.
It was painful to think of and dreadful to watch. Even I, who had none
of the acute feelings of a virtuoso, could not bear to look on and see
this deliberate mutilation of so ancient a relic. It was a relief to
me when my companion tugged at my sleeve as a signal that I was to
follow him as he softly crept out of the room. It was not until we
were within his own quarters that he opened his lips, and then I saw by
his agitated face how deep was his consternation.

"The abominable Goth!" he cried. "Could you have believed it?"

"It is amazing."

"He is a villain or a lunatic--one or the other. We shall very soon
see which. Come with me, Jackson, and we shall get to the bottom of
this black business."

A door opened out of the passage which was the private entrance from
his rooms into the museum. This he opened softly with his key, having
first kicked off his shoes, an example which I followed. We crept
together through room after room, until the large hall lay before us,
with that dark figure still stooping and working at the central case.
With an advance as cautious as his own we closed in upon him, but
softly as we went we could not take him entirely unawares. We were
still a dozen yards from him when he looked round with a start, and
uttering a husky cry of terror, ran frantically down the museum.

"Simpson! Simpson!" roared Mortimer, and far away down the vista of
electric lighted doors we saw the stiff figure of the old soldier
suddenly appear. Professor Andreas saw him also, and stopped running,
with a gesture of despair. At the same instant we each laid a hand
upon his shoulder.

"Yes, yes, gentlemen," he panted, "I will come with you. To your room,
Mr. Ward Mortimer, if you please! I feel that I owe you an
explanation."

My companion's indignation was so great that I could see that he dared
not trust himself to reply. We walked on each side of the old
Professor, the astonished commissionaire bringing up the rear. When we
reached the violated case, Mortimer stopped and examined the
breastplate. Already one of the stones of the lower row had had its
setting turned back in the same manner as the others. My friend held
it up and glanced furiously at his prisoner.

"How could you!" he cried. "