cord. Hum-m-m! Just so! Another question, your ladyship:
You spoke of running down to the foot of the stairs with the lint
for Miss Eastman and running back in a panic when you remembered the
necklace. How, then, did you get the lint to Miss Eastman, after all?"

"I sent it to her with apologies for not being able to do the
bandaging for her."

"Sent it to her, your ladyship? By whom?"

"Jennifer--one of the servants."

"Oho!" said Cleek, in two different tones. "So then you _did_ unlock
the door of your boudoir for a second time, and somebody other than
Sir Mawson and your stepson _did_ see the inside of the room, eh?"

"Your pardon, Mr. Cleek, but you are wrong in both surmises.
Jennifer was the servant who was working in the lower hall at
the time--the one who says he saw Henry leave the house at ten
minutes past seven. The instant I reached the foot of the stairs
and thought of the necklace, I called Jennifer to me, gave him the
lint with orders to take it at once to Miss Eastman's maid with
the message mentioned, and then turned round and ran back to my
boudoir immediately."

"H'm! I see. I suppose, your ladyship, it isn't possible that this
man Jennifer might, in going to carry that message----But no! I
recollect: the door of your boudoir was locked. So even if he had
managed to outstrip you by going up another staircase----"

"Oh, I see what you mean!" she declared, as they reached the edge of
the lawn and set out across it. "But, Mr. Cleek, such a thing would
not bear even hinting at, so far as Jennifer is concerned. He is
the soul of honesty, for one thing; and, for another, he couldn't
have outstripped me, as you put it, had I returned at a snail's
pace. He is very old, and near-sighted. There! look! That is he,
over there, sweeping the leaves off the terrace. You can see for
yourself how impossible it would be for him to run upstairs."

Cleek did see. Looking in the direction indicated, he saw an elderly
man employed as stated, whose back was bowed, and whose limping gait
betokened an injury which had left him hopelessly lame.

"His leg had to be amputated as the result of being run over by an
omnibus in the streets of London," explained her ladyship, "and,
in consequence, he wears a wooden one. He has been in the employ of
the family for more than forty years. Originally he was a gardener,
and, after his accident, Sir Mawson was for pensioning him off so
that he could end his days in quiet and com