Hilaire Belloc

“ Once more dispensing with the formality of consulting his host, the great Collop unbolted the door, and with a Napoleonic gesture introduced his merry men.
They were a sight, they were! Six of them seemed to have been chosen rather for strength than for intellectual power. Two staggered under an enormous iron tripod with heaven knows what contraption poised on its summit, and a cylinder of gas. Three more bore with them sundry instruments. And of all this little army Mr. Collop, with fine decision, took immediate charge.
"Now, then, lads!" he said; "hearty! The job's got to be done quick. ”

“ Victoria Mosel was always talking of him; Marjorie was eager to see him once and then to discard his company for ever; Lady Bolter, full of the intellectual Victorian time, wanted to be able to say that she had been in the same room with a man of whom the Prime Minister himself had said that he was the only man whose writing he really understood. The Home Secretary had met him once or twice in other people's houses; Marjorie herself and her aunt were the only two for whom he was still quite a stranger.
"What train is he coming by?" said Tommy Galton, sunk into a deep chair. ”

“ It was the heirloom of that noble House of de Bohun which Ethelbert served. It was the Stone on which he had heard all the domestics of the house inflamed in the last hours of the previous evening.
There is an instinct planted in man by Mr. Darwin, which impels him to pick up a thing, anything dropped. That instinct Ethelbert obeyed. The act was half unconscious, immediate; he had slipped the Emerald into his pocket and was already off with a candle in one hand and the other in a side pocket, fondling the stone. ”

“ There is a current impression, taken I think from the great spate of detective stories upon which we are all fed, that your professional detective has no brains whatsoever and would be no match for the sloth of the Andes, or the sluggish waddle-duck of Australian and Imperial fame. It is an error. They are men as we are and their intelligences, such as they are, work more or less under the spur of prospective advantage. Within three minutes Mr. Collop had grasped the fact that fame, security, promotion, a permanent, good, appreciated, livelihood lay in his outstretched palm. ”

“ So shook he perfunctorily the Arctic Ursine Fleece, the Hyperborean Candour, when he heard something fall sharply at his feet. He even caught a flash of it as it fell. He saw it issuing from that ear of Thule which would hear no more; he saw it sliding down the whiteness of the hair and gleaming dully in the candlelight upon the polished wood of the flooring.
There was no mistake. It was IT. It was that pledge of respect and esteem which the ever-memorable Catherine, Empress of All the Russias, had bestowed three lives ago upon the stalwart Bones. ”

“ He had put a valuable jewel into a nobleman's pocket and that might be, in legal terms, for all he knew, embezzlement, malversation or even a compound and chronic felony of malice prepense; perhaps a misdemeanour—with which word he was familiar through the fate of an uncle of his called John.
He was in great agony, was the boy Ethelbert; in agony of that sort which youth cannot endure until it has relieved itself by communion. But how should he speak? His duty was to his natural lord, the Butler. The glorious, the remote Mr. Whaley: God of the Underworld. Should he confess to the Butler? ”

“ Collop.... Yes.... Mr. Collop...." stuttered the Home Secretary like a man half stunned. "We expected ... ah! ... you will pardon me? ... a Mr. Brailton; yes, a Mr. Brailton.... Eh? Shall I ... ah! ... if by any accident there should be a mistake?"
"There's no mistake," said the genial Collop, "old Brailton 'twas to be! You're right there, mister! But he was that sick he asked me to run down. ''Tis only a suburb job,' says he. So here I am!"
The Home Secretary whispered to his daughter in an agony: "Can't we stop it? Shall we telephone?" ”

“ Very remarkable," said the Home Secretary. He went so far as to wring his subordinate by the hand. "We are infinitely obliged to you."
The guilty three were less enthusiastic; but they murmured as though they would be polite—though Galton's murmur, overheard by Vic, was, "I believe he pinched it himself!" And Vic answered in a second whisper, "Fat-head!"—a chosen epithet delivered with such real contempt in the slit of a dark eye as made the poor horse-puller wince.
Then Aunt Amelia bleated:
"I don't quite understand. Who does Mr. Collop say stole the emerald?" ”

“ The old bony hand, with the gesture of one that takes rather than gives, put the emerald into a side pocket of the coat, where lay he knew not what—but in point of fact, a tobacco pouch, a pipe, a pencil, and a piece of chocolate—of all things in the world!—no longer clean. ”

“ The two citizens with the tripod set it down between the old dusty joists upon which the floor boards had rested, and of a sudden a most abominable glare, like the white heat from molten iron, shot in a shaft upon a corner in the uncovered lower flooring. It was brilliant beyond the dreams of avarice. It revealed like remorse. Mr. Collop with an agility surprising in a man of his build, leaped down that little distance, and kept on shouting directions. ”

“ Humphrey de Bohun had pinched his own daughter's emerald. The Emerald of Catherine the Great. The fortune of the de Bohuns lay concealed by his master's hand, awaiting the receiver's gold. Oh, horror! In what embarrassment the unfortunate man had committed the fatal act Mr. Whaley knew not: could so good a man have been blackmailed by scoundrels? Why should he need money—and money at such risk? Alas! who can plumb the depths of the human heart? thought George Whaley—indeed, he almost spoke the words aloud, so apposite did they seem, and so often had he read them in his book of devotions. ”

“ Did not every novelette, every Sunday paper, every cinema, point with unerring finger to the lord? Are not lords and jewels made one for the other, like love and laughter, or politics and stocks and shares? The lord could not but be the recipient of the emerald, and when he should have received it, who fitter than he to deal with such trifles? ”

“ He had used no little ceremonial, speaking a little pompously of her dead mother—a Ginningham—of the immemorial traditions of their house, and with curious insistence upon the supposed influence of the jewel upon their fortunes. He smiled somewhat lugubriously as he touched that point, but Marjorie, though not extravagantly intelligent, had brains enough to believe in omens, mascots, talismans, and was proud, as a girl should be at her age, to enter upon the possession of the Sacred Gem of the de Bohuns. ”

“ McTaggart accepted the gesture.
"I am grateful, sir," he said simply. "I quite understand that a man in my position would be naturally suspected."
Mr. McTaggart explains to the Great Statesman
his theory—or rather, certitude—upon the
whereabouts of the Great Emerald.
"Don't say that, Mr. McTaggart"—all the gentleman in him arising to patronize poverty—"don't say that!"
"I say I can understand that a man in my position should be suspected. But you will see; mark my words, you will see after no long space of time that I was right. I have an instinct in such things." ”

“ The Home Secretary's Butler taking the
liberty to observe: "Thou art
the man."
"Upon my word!" cried Humphrey de Bohun, moved to unexpected energy by an intolerable boredom, "this kind of thing's got to stop. Speak out, man, and don't make a fool of yourself!" He pulled out his watch. "I've not got all the time there is! Hurry up, now! Surely you can speak plainly!"
"I can," said George Whaley, in tones of gloom, and moved by a mighty resolution. He was standing upright now; he fixed his employer with a steady glance, and each hand was half clenched at his side. "The emerald, sir!" ”

“ Collop after the fashion of the great leaders of mankind. He threw open the window towards the avenue and heavily straddled himself out. The Professor's long legs followed; young Lord Galton, a good deal bored, with his hands in his pockets, took it at a stride; Marjorie's short skirts negotiated it; McTaggart tried to jump it, hit his head on the sash, rubbed it, and then more sensibly walked across. As for Vic, she put a bony hand upon the sill and vaulted lightly over. ”

“ Collop. "That makes it awkward like."
"I think," began the Home Secretary timidly ... but the stronger will prevailed.
"Make it Bogotar?" was Mr. Collop's suggestion.
Time, which destroys love itself, and brings mighty states to ruin, the implacable master of ephemeral man, caught the unfortunate father and daughter in his iron grip. There was not a moment to spare. And it was as Mr. Collop, just back from his long but patriotic exile in "Bogotar," that the welcome stranger was led out and ritually introduced to the guests in the next room. ”

“ I'll put no man under a cloud till I've made certain that it's not lost and hiding of its own. If it's not found, why then it'll be time to begin."
It was Marjorie who found the decision to break off the battle. She got up suddenly.
"Good night, Mr. Collop," she said. "I understand all about it now. We leave it to you."
"Thanks, Miss," said Mr. Collop. "That's the right spirit! You leave it to the perfessional man, and you'll never regret it! Is it good night to you, sir?" he added in a voice as loud as ever, stretching out a firm hand and seizing that of the Home Secretary. ”

“ The Home Secretary nodded solemnly.
"Senlac will do all right. But you must remember, my dear, that this Mr.—ah!—Brailton, that is the name, Brailton, is somewhat advanced in years—and ... and ... I needn't insist ... but a refined man and on his father's side, of good blood! He will be sensitive."
There was a silence—but not for long. The door was solemnly flung open with a majesty worthy of the occasion, and the Master of the Ceremonies—if I may so call him—George Whaley announced in a controlled but oily voice:
"Mr. Collop!"
Collop? Collop? What was this? The disguise for Brailton? ”

“ Good heavens, papa!" said Marjorie. "Isn't there a car? Go up in the car! Tell Morden all about it."
"Morden can hold his tongue," mused de Bohun thoughtfully.
"Of course he can!" snapped Marjorie.
"But ..." hesitated her father, again, "I don't see how ... what with the guests ... and I wouldn't have them suspect for worlds...." ”

“ Instead of which the Angel, with angelic swiftness, put a thought into his head.
"Don't pull out that lump of chocolate! It will make you look a fool. The great don't eat chocolate, except out of large expensive wooden boxes with Japanese pictures outside; elaborate boxes. The rich do not carry half-broken slabs of chocolate in their pockets—still less in their tobacco pouches!"
Therefore was it that McTaggart did not take out the lump, whatever it was; he grasped a fingerful of tobacco and peered down with one eye into the recesses of the pouch. ”

“ Then, looking up and leaning back again in the chair: "But we need not go into all that. As I say, the great thing is to come to the point at once, isn't it?"
McTaggart was tired of standing up. He sat down in another chair, and said "Yes," with a look of expectancy not quite unmixed with approaching boredom.
"Well, Mr. McTaggart," went on the great statesman at last desperately, like a man who has determined to take a plunge. ”

“ As for the parrot, whom I may call the second Attaboy, he is still the cherished, the beloved, of that constant heart, Marjorie; Mrs. Munster, née de Bohun, sometime Lady Galton, as also Mrs. Pemberton—yes, Pemberton. So far as I can remember, she is nothing else—so far. Such a charming woman! Touching upon the lovely confines of middle age with large bulges under rather weary eyes. But her father provides handsomely.
As for that father, the head of the family, Humphrey de Bohun—pronounced Deboon—he looks no older. It would be odd if he could. ”

“ Marjorie had insisted upon seeing her father alone, and she had worked it easily enough.
The Professor in his relief from the accursed emerald had fallen into a sprightly mood. He had compelled young Galton to take a second walk, and therein had bored the turfist to agonies; which only shows that God is just, and that we are punished in that by which we sinned; in Galton's case, the avenue. During that walk the crystallographist volubly explained his exciting experiences in the past as an amateur detective. ”

“ Politicians have not very great power nowadays save in patronage; that they still do retain; of public money there are some odd millions every year at the disposal of the politicians. It is only fair to say that most of them are content with moderate pickings for themselves and their connections.
Therefore did McTaggart answer with a natural prescience of coming advantage. "It is very good of you, sir. May I call at the Home Office?"
"Yes, yes. Shall we say Thursday at noon?" De Bohun marked it in a little pocket book and then joined Collop in the hall, as McTaggart walked off. ”

“ There had been farewells, and yet no loss of the high regard in which, for some extraordinary reason, he had been held by the Semiramis of the North. He had acquired a certain assurance of bearing which marked his new fortunes, and indeed, in this final scene of his presence upon the quays of St. Petersburg, he seemed by his gait to be some one of consequence. And no wonder, for he had left the Palace for the last time bearing secreted in the bosom of his ample coat a jewel worthy to be a memorial of the greatest passages in any life. ”

“ The Home Secretary came down to breakfast late, and no wonder! Marjorie came down to breakfast late, and no wonder! Tommy and Vic came down late, and no wonder! The Professor and Aunt Amelia had met at the table before anyone else was about. If she expected a flirtation, she was disappointed. If he expected a quiet reading of the Sunday newspaper, he was more bitterly disappointed still. The advent of the late comers was a relief.
Last of all drifted in, heavy-eyed but big with mastery achieved, the Collop.
At that breakfast very little was said. McTaggart was getting used to the rich. ”

“ It's a jewel, yes, a precious stone. Oh, yes," admitted Humphrey de Bohun.
"Well then, so's a diamond. A man who'll take diamonds'll take emeralds—what? ... Then there's that journalist fellow—he's under suspicion because he's a journalist; they're all on their uppers, and you told me yourself about the one who stole the spoons when you were at the Board of Works."
A faint smile appeared for a moment on the face of his host. It was his favourite funny story—all about a journalist who once stole some government spoons. ”

“ Thank you most warmly!" said his host more and more nervously. "Really you know, we must not be seen together. Pray take your time, Mr. Collop; the ladies are always late coming down."
"Ah, that's their sort, ain't it? Girls are the devil nowadays, aren't they?" said Mr. Collop in his friendliest tones; and with that farewell in his ears the master of the house slipped out.
The Home Secretary's next action was to go straight to McTaggart's room. It was an act of decision and initiative that you would hardly have expected in so well-bred a man. But suffering is a powerful tonic. ”