"He means," Alan answered, "that whatever possible danger there may be in stopping the clock, there is very probable danger in letting it go on. Is that it, Caw?"

"Yes, Mr. Alan, and I hope you will believe that my remark was not entirely selfish."

"The trouble, Monsieur," added Alan, "is that like yourself I cannot answer questions."

"One, if you please, Mr. Craik. Is the danger for you also?"

Alan smiled. "I'm not worrying much--"

Marjorie interposed. "Yes, yes, Monsieur!" she exclaimed, and hastily lowered a flushed face.

The Frenchman was plainly distressed. "This," he said at last, "was not expected. I perceive that you have enemies, that my esteemed patron had enemies also. Not so bad did I understand it to be. I imagined Mr.

Christopher Craik was humourist as well as clever man--"

"So he was," the host interrupted; "but the ball he set rolling is now doing so more violently than I can believe he intended. Still, if stopping the clock before its time is likely to stultify his memory in any way--why then, Monsieur, I, for one, will do my best to keep it going. What do you say, Caw?"

"If that is how you feel, sir, then I say, 'long live the clock!'"

"Hear, hear!" murmured Teddy.

"Caw," cried Miss Handyside, "you're simply splendid!"

Caw had not blushed so warmly for many years.

Guidet, pale and perturbed, had taken a little book from his pocket and opened it at a page of tiny figures close-packed. Now he rose. "If I may go to a quiet place for one half-hour, I--I will see if anything can be done, Mr. Craik, but I promise nothings."

"See that Monsieur Guidet has quietness and some refreshment," said Alan to the servant, and the two left the room.

"Let's go for a walk," remarked Teddy. "This clock business is getting on my nerves. I shall never again wear socks with--"

"But I do think," said Marjorie hopefully, "the funny little man means to do something."

Dr. Handyside got up and strolled over to the clock. "Monsieur Guidet,"

he observed, "has evidently the sensibilities of an artist as well as the ordinary feelings of humanity. Caw has appealed to the latter. If I were you, Alan, I should appeal to the former by suggesting to Guidet the probability of an attack on the clock itself."

On the way out-of-doors, Alan looked into the room where the Frenchman sat staring at a diagram roughly drawn on notepaper. He wagged his head drearily.

"I fear I can do nothings," he sighed.

"Perhaps I ought to mention, Monsieur," Alan said, as if the idea had just occurred to him, "that my enemies are just as likely to attack the clock as my person--more likely, it may be."

"Hah!" Guidet bounded on his seat. "My clock!--They dare to attack him!--"

"Possibly with explosives--"

"Enough! Pray leave me, Mr. Craik. I--I may yet find a way. Give me a whole hour."

During the walk up the loch Teddy actually forgot the clock. Alan and Marjorie were in front, and he noted his friend's bearing towards the girl with a pained wonder, and thought of Doris.

On returning to the house they found Monsieur waiting for them. He held a sheaf of papers covered with queer drawings and calculations. And he hung his head.

"Mr. Craik," he said sadly, "I have struggle, but it is no use. I see an hour, thirteen days after to-day, when perhaps I _might_ stop him without disaster--but only perhaps--only perhaps. And so I dare not, will not risk. One leetle, tiny mistake of a second, and"--he made an expressive gesture--"all is lost."

The silence of dismay was broken by Handyside.

"But bless my soul, Monsieur Guidet, if you stop him at the wrong time, you can easily set him going again."

"Not so! He stop once, he stop for ever."

"But," cried Marjorie excitedly, "although you stop him--the clock, I mean--it will still be there; it won't fly away."

The little man regarded her for a moment. "Mademoiselle," he said and bowed, "he will be done--finished--dead. I will say no more." He turned to Alan. "Mr. Craik, I am sorry to be not obliging to you. Yes; and I confess I am nearly more sorry for myself. But I hope the time comes when you will understand and excuse. The good G.o.d preserve you and him--and Mr. Caw--from enemies." He bowed all round. "Adieu."

And so ended the little company's great expectations.

"I suppose there's nothing for it but to hang on," said Alan with a laugh, "and get used to the situation. I think you, Teddy, had better chuck your berth in London, live here, and help me to write that book on my Eskimo experiences."

"Very pleased," replied Teddy, "if you don't mind my having the jumps once a while."

"Oh, do come and stay with Mr. Craig," said Marjorie in her impulsive fashion, which annoyed Teddy chiefly because he was forced to confess it charming. He disapproved of the proprietary interest she seemed to take in his friend, and yet had circ.u.mstances been a little different, how he would have welcomed it!

"A very good notion," observed Handyside. "The clock can't have too many guardians, and I don't imagine you would care to bring in strangers."

"Not to be thought of," replied Alan. "But I'm sorry for Caw. Teddy and I must leave him alone for a few days. We're catching the two o'clock steamer. Things to see about in Glasgow, and on to London in the morning.

I'm hoping the big dog may turn up to-day."

Marjorie gave her father a surrept.i.tious nudge.

"I don't like intruding my services," said the doctor, "but I should be very glad to spend the nights here during your absence--"

"Me, too," said Marjorie.

"Be quiet, infant! Just be candid, Alan."

"I'd be jolly glad to think of Caw having your support, doctor," the young man heartily answered, "but it would be accepting too much. I have no right to bring you into my troubles--"

"Then that's settled," said Handyside. "I hope you don't mind my saying it, but I've felt a new man since I learned that the stones were false.

Marjorie and I must be going now, and there's only one thing I want to be sure of before we part."

"What is that, doctor?"

"I want to be sure that the Green Box is in its place."

They all laughed. "That's easy!" Alan opened the drawer. "Behold!--just where it was last night."

Marjorie's hand darted downward. "What key is this?" she cried, holding it up.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I could swear that wasn't there last night."