w surrounded us, I declare it was a relief to
observe how well the buckles and straps understood each other! When you
had seen the pony backed into the shafts of the chaise, you had seen
something there was no doubt about. And that, let me tell you, was
becoming a treat of the rarest kind in our household.

Going round with the chaise to the front door, I found not only Mr.
Franklin, but Mr. Godfrey and Superintendent Seegrave also waiting for
me on the steps.

Mr. Superintendent's reflections (after failing to find the Diamond in
the servants' rooms or boxes) had led him, it appeared, to an entirely
new conclusion. Still sticking to his first text, namely, that somebody
in the house had stolen the jewel, our experienced officer was now of the
opinion that the thief (he was wise enough not to name poor Penelope,
whatever he might privately think of her!) had been acting in concert
with the Indians; and he accordingly proposed shifting his inquiries to
the jugglers in the prison at Frizinghall. Hearing of this new move, Mr.
Franklin had volunteered to take the Superintendent back to the town,
from which he could telegraph to London as easily as from our station.
Mr. Godfrey, still devoutly believing in Mr. Seegrave, and greatly
interested in witnessing the examination of the Indians, had begged
leave to accompany the officer to Frizinghall. One of the two inferior
policemen was to be left at the house, in case anything happened. The
other was to go back with the Superintendent to the town. So the four
places in the pony-chaise were just filled.

Before he took the reins to drive off, Mr. Franklin walked me away a few
steps out of hearing of the others.

"I will wait to telegraph to London," he said, "till I see what comes
of our examination of the Indians. My own conviction is, that this
muddle-headed local police-officer is as much in the dark as ever, and
is simply trying to gain time. The idea of any of the servants being in
league with the Indians is a preposterous absurdity, in my opinion. Keep
about the house, Betteredge, till I come back, and try what you can make
of Rosanna Spearman. I don't ask you to do anything degrading to your
own self-respect, or anything cruel towards the girl. I only ask you
to exercise your observation more carefully than usual. We will make
as light of it as we can before my aunt--but this is a more important
matter than you may suppose."

"It is a matter of twenty thousand pounds,