nevertheless effective."

He pointed to the object which had occasioned his fall. It was a small
metal chest, evidently of very considerable weight, and it stood
immediately outside the door of Number 14a.

"That was what he came for, sir! That was what he came for! You were
too quick for him!"

Beeton stood behind us, his horror-bright eyes fixed upon the box.

"Eh?" rapped Smith, turning upon him.

"That's what Sir Gregory brought to England," the man ran on almost
hysterically; "that's what he's been guarding this past two weeks,
night and day, crouching over it with a loaded pistol. That's what
cost him his life, sir. He's had no peace, day or night, since he
got it...."

We were inside the room again now, Smith bearing the coffer in his
arms, and still the man ran on:

"He's never slept for more than an hour at a time, that I know of, for
weeks past. Since the day we came here he hasn't spoken to another
living soul, and he's lain there on the floor at night with his head
on that brass box, and sat watching over it all day."

"'Beeton!' he'd cry out, perhaps in the middle of the night--'Beeton--
do you hear that damned woman!' But although I'd begun to think I
could hear something, I believe it was the constant strain working on