“You are a good fellow, Knighton,” he said. “You don’t worry me when I am rattled.”

Knighton smiled a little, but made no reply.

“Ruth is my only child,” said Van Aldin, “and there is no one on this earth who knows quite what she means to me.”

A faint smile irradiated his face. He slipped his hand into his pocket.

“Care to see something, Knighton?”

He came back towards the secretary.

From his pocket he drew out a parcel carelessly wrapped in brown paper. He tossed off the wrapping and disclosed a big, shabby, red velvet case. In the centre of it were some twisted initials surmounted by a crown. He snapped the case open, and the secretary drew in his breath sharply. Against the slightly dingy white of the interior, the stones glowed like blood.