Parliament. It would appear from all you've discovered, amongst you, up to now, that Spencer Levendale has been privately mixed up with old Daniel Multenius in some business which seems to be connected with South Africa. Now, attend to what I say:—About the time that I knew Daniel Molteno in Houndsditch, Daniel Molteno had a partner—a junior partner, whose name, however, didn't appear over the shop. He was a much younger man than Daniel—in fact, he was quite a young man—I should say he was then about twenty-three or four—not more. He was of medium height, dark, typically Jewish, large dark eyes, olive skin, good-looking, smart, full of go. And his name—the name I knew him by—was Sam Levin." The other men in the room glanced at each other—and one of them softly murmured what all was thinking.
"The same initials!"
"Just so!" agreed Mr. Killick. "That's what struck me—Sam Levin: Spencer Levendale. Very well!—I continue. One day I went to Daniel Molteno's shop to get something repaired, and it struck me that I hadn't seen Sam Levin the last two or three times I had been in. 'Where's your partner?' I asked of Daniel Molteno. 'I haven't seen him lately.' 'Partner no longer, Mr. Killick,' said he. 'We've dissolved. He's gone to South Africa.' 'What to do there?' I asked. 'Oh,' answered Daniel Molteno, 'he's touched with this fever to get at close quarters with the diamond fields! He's gone out there to make a fortune, and come back a millionaire.' 'Well!' I said. 'He's a likely candidate.' 'Oh, yes!' said Daniel. 'He'll do well.' No more was said—and, as far as I can remember, I never saw Daniel Molteno again. It
