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Everyone sat very still. Jonathan Mansel was not the man to waste words. If he said...

"I don't want to do it," he continued. "I'd rather you trusted me. But I'm up against human nature, and so I must prove my case. But before I do it, I want you to give me your word that the proof I'm going to give you will not go beyond this room. More. That you'll never give it away by word or look or deed to a single soul."

A breathless silence succeeded my cousin's words.

Then--

"We swear," said Berry. "We give you our solemn oath." An excited, definite murmur indorsed the pledge. "Have you given this clue to the police?"

"It's not a clue," said Jonah. "It's a simple, downright proof that if we stay in France and use what wits we have we shan't be wasting our time. All the same, I've not told the police, because that would have been futile--you'll soon see why. And now hold on to something. I'm going to give you a shock. The Plazas deserve great credit. They played a most difficult game, and they played it devilish well. But I think you'll agree that so far as play-acting's concerned, the honours must go to Casca--Casca de Palk."