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I scouted the idea as showing an unworthy curiosity. The chest
had waited twenty years, I said, so it could very well continue to wait
until after breakfast. Accordingly at nine--an unusually sharp nine--we
breakfasted; and so occupied was I with my own thoughts that I regret to
state that I put a piece of bacon into Leo's tea in mistake for a lump
of sugar. Job, too, to whom the contagion of excitement had, of course,
spread, managed to break the handle off my Sevres china tea-cup, the
identical one I believe that Marat had been drinking from just before he
was stabbed in his bath.
At last, however, breakfast was cleared away, and Job, at my request,
fetched the chest, and placed it upon the table in a somewhat gingerly
fashion, as though he mistrusted it. Then he prepared to leave the room.
"Stop a moment, Job," I said. "If Mr. Leo has no objection, I should
prefer to have an independent witness to this business, who can be
relied upon to hold his tongue unless he is asked to speak.


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