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Updated: May 23, 2025
One half of the golden clasp being lost, the next question is, what has become of it?" I nodded. "To this," said Uncle Loveday, bending forward over the table, "two answers are possible. Either it lies at the bottom of the sea with the rest of the freight of the Belle Fortune, or it is in Colliver's possession." "It may lie beneath Dead Man's Rock, in John Railton's pocket," I suggested.
Colliver's voice at my elbow aroused me. "'Odd man, that friend of yours made up of emotion, and afraid of his life to show it. Has he done you a favour? "'He has, I replied, 'as great a favour as one man can do for another. "'Ah, said he, 'I thought as much. That's why he is so full of gratitude. "Dec. 6th.
No; for when I looked more closely I saw other footprints, already half obliterated, leading up the street. These must be Simon Colliver's. I followed them for about a hundred yards past the shuttered windows. Suddenly they turned into a shop door, and then seemed to leave it again. The shop was closed, and above it hung three brass balls, each covered now with a snowy cap.
All the daily papers assigned robbery as the motive, and the disappearance of Tom's watch-chain gave plausibility to the theory. But I knew too well why that chain had disappeared, and even in my grief found consolation in the thought of Colliver's impotent rage when he should come to examine his prize.
Bitterly I cursed the folly which had prompted my rash words in the theatre, and so sacrificed my friend. With what passion, even in my despair, I thanked Heaven that the act which led to Colliver's mistake had been Tom's and not mine! Yet, what consolation was it? It was I, not he, that should be lying there. He had given his life for his friend a friend who had already robbed him of his love.
I had played straight into Colliver's hand. He was in no hurry, but sat and watched me there with those intolerably evil eyes. His left hand was thrust carelessly into his pocket, and as he tilted back upon the stool and surveyed me, his right was playing with the clasp upon the chest.
"True, my boy, true; you put another case. But anyhow it makes no difference. If it lies at the bottom of the sea, whether in Railton's pocket or not, the secret is safe. If it is in Colliver's possession the secret is safe, unless he has seen and learnt by heart this half of the inscription.
The Chy-pons is the narrowest street in Troy, and Colliver's driver could hardly pass now, except over William Geake's legs. "Draw in your feet, brother Geake," he called out, "or else pray short." One or two women giggled at this. But Geake did not seem to hear.
"I was doing so when I heard footsteps coming slowly down the companion. A moment after, two crashing blows were struck upon the door-panel and Colliver's voice cried "'Trenoweth, you dog, are you hiding there? Give me up those papers and come out. "For answer I sent a charge of shot through the cabin door, and in an instant heard him scrambling back with all speed up the stairs.
It used not to be so white as this. And where was I lying? In a boat? How my head was aching! Then remembrance came back. Strange to tell, it began with Claire's death in the theatre, and thence led downwards in broken and interrupted train until Colliver's face suddenly started up before me, and I knew all. I raised myself on my elbow.
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