He took her by the arm and forcibly drew her back. “Sit down and don’t be a fool,” he said. “I’ve told you already I’ll marry you tomorrow, and I’ll go farther and say that there never was a time when money was sweeter to me than it is at the moment.”

“Will you sign that note?”

He skimmed it through quickly, making sure that he was under no obligation if the treasure did not materialise, and, picking up a pen, he made a little correction, she watching suspiciously, and signed with a flourish.

“What is that you’ve put into the paper?” she demanded.

“An exit for Arthur Gine,” he said with a whimsical smile. “The document reads, ‘In consideration of receiving on behalf of my client, Lord Chelford,’ etcetera, etcetera.”

At first she did not understand, and then a slow smile dawned on her face.

“I see,” she nodded. “That means that if anything comes out, you’re acting for him and not for yourself. Arthur, there are times when I think you’re clever!”

Arthur Gine smiled as he put his arm about her and led her to the window. Below, thick streams of road traffic were passing east and west. A great lorry was under his eyes; he saw an inscription on its side, “5 tons.” It would require three such lorries to move the Chelford treasure, he thought, and for a moment his head reeled.

“I’ll tell you how clever I am when I handle the first bar of the Chelford treasure. And you’ll know how clever you are when I’ve dealt with the last. There’s two millions in this. Now tell me, where is this gold?”

She looked at him for a second, and then, lowering her voice:

“In the vaults of Chelford Abbey,” she said.

For a second neither spoke, and then: “Will you see your sister, Mr Gine? She has just arrived.”

Arthur Gine spun round, an oath on his lips. Gilder had come noiselessly into the room, his inscrutable eyes fixed upon his employer. Not a muscle of his face betrayed whether or not he had overheard the last words.

9