to be seen wearing one of the rings; but the greatest fraud of
all (from the aforesaid standpoint) is assuredly that very cup
of which Raffles had spoken. Moreover, he felt this himself.

"Why, it's as thin as paper," said he, "and enamelled like a
middle-aged lady of quality! But, by Jove, it's one of the most
beautiful things I ever saw in my life, Bunny. I should like to
have it for its own sake, by all my gods!"

The thing had a little square case of plate-glass all to itself
at one end of the room. It may have been the thing of beauty
that Raffles affected to consider it, but I for my part was in
no mood to look at it in that light. Underneath were the names
of the plutocrats who had subscribed for this national gewgaw,
and I fell to wondering where their L8,000 came in, while
Raffles devoured his two-penny guide-book as greedily as a
school-girl with a zeal for culture.

"Those are scenes from the martyrdom of St. Agnes," said he . .
. "'translucent on relief . . . one of the finest specimens of
its kind.' I should think it was! Bunny, you Philistine, why
can't you admire the thing for its own sake? It would be worth
having only to live up to! There never was such rich enamelling
on such thin gold; and what a good scheme to hang the lid up
over it, so that you can see how thin it is. I wonder if we
could lift it, Bunny, by hook or crook?"

"You'd better try, sir," said a dry voice at his elbow.

The madman seemed to think we had the room to ourselves. I knew