out a small leather case. She opened it, took out a magnificent looking
pendant. She flung it on the ground and trampled on it. Gorman stepped
forward to rescue the emeralds.

"Don't do that," he said. "Hang it all! Don't. Give the thing back
if you like, but don't destroy it. Those stones must be immensely
valuable."

"Valuable!" Madame's voice rose to a shriek. "What is valuable compared
to the safety of my Konrad? Valuable? They are worth ten pounds. Ten
pounds, Gorman! I took them to Goldstein to-day. He knows jewels, that
Goldstein. He is expert and he said 'They are shams. They are worth--at
most ten pounds.'"

Gorman stared for a moment at the stones which lay on the floor in their
crushed setting. Then he turned to Sir Bartholomew.

"You don't mean to say," he said, "that you were such a d----d ass as to
send Madame sham stones?"

Sir Bartholomew's face was a sufficient answer to the question. Gorman
took him by the arm and led him out of the room without a word.

"You'd better go home," he said. "Madame Ypsilante is violent when
roused, and it is not safe for you to stay. But how could you have been
such an idiot----!"

"I never thought of her having the stones valued," said Sir Bartholomew.

"Of course she had them valued," said Gorman. "Anyone else in the world
would have known that she'd be sure to have them valued. Of all the
besotted imbeciles--and they call you a statesman!"

Sir Bartholomew, having got safely into the street, began to recover a
little, and attempted a defence of himself.

"But," he said, "a pendant like that--emeralds of that size are
enormously expensive. The Government would not have sanctioned it.
After all, Mr. Gorman, we are bound to be particularly careful about
the expenditure of public funds. It is one of the proudest traditions
of British statesmanship that it is scrupulously honourable even to
the point of being niggardly in sanctioning the expenditure of the
tax-payer's money."

"Good Lord!" said Gorman. "I didn't think--I really did not think that I
could be surprised by anything in politics--But when you talk to me--You
oughtn't to do it, Potterton. You really ought not. Public funds.
Tax-payers' money. Scrupulously honourable, and--niggardly. Good Lord!"

XI. SETTLED OUT OF COURT

There are many solicitors in London who make larger incomes than Mr.
Dane-Latimer, though he does very well and pays a considerable sum every
year by way of super-tax. There