Will members of the Clubb hereby desist from misusing the Log as a bazaar for haggling over hours. The schedule is now all wrong anyway, consequent to last night’s events. I have conferred with Sir Isaac. He has a notion of what it is that the buyer desires, and I agree with him. But we are loath to sell the original to this buyer, whoever he is, and so we are presently hard at work crafting a forg’d copy, with certain details altered, so that it shall not be of any use (the document in question is a chymical receipt, inscribed in a sort of philosophickal language that might as well be a cypher; I know enough of the language, and Sir Isaac knows enough of Alchemy, to produce a convincing fake). Meanwhile Mr. Hoxton has been directed to spend his days, and if need be his nights, at Clerkenwell Court fabricating two wooden chests that look the same.