he looked about him, not curiously, but musingly; and he paused
for a second or two before the portrait of the young man in hunting kit,
the Marquess's elder brother; the pause was almost imperceptible, but
Celia, remembering the scene between herself and the Marquess on the
night of his arrival, noticed the pause; but the old man's face conveyed
nothing and was as impassive as usual. She took him to the Marquess's
room. Lord Sutcombe, at sight of his visitor, tried to rise; but fell
back, stretching out his hand, murmuring,

"Wilfred!" Then he looked at the nurse and doctor. "Will you please
leave us alone for a little while. This gentleman is----"

Mr. Clendon laid his hand upon his brother's arm and stopped him.

Celia went downstairs, and found Mr. Jacobs standing before the portrait
of the Marquess's brother.

"Fine picture that, Miss Grant," he said. "He must have been a splendid
fellow: great pity he died. Oh, yes, I know who it is," he went on,
answering the question in Celia's eyes. "I've been making acquaintance
with the family portraits: very fond of pictures; almost as fond as I am
of cattle; but as I shan't be able to afford both, why----!"

At this moment Inspector Brown came hurriedly through the back hall; he
was very hot and wiped the perspiration from his sunburnt face with a
red bandana.

"I've news for you, Mr. Jacobs," he cried, as calmly as he could. "Will
you come into the sitting-room; will you come at once, please: most
important!"

Mr. Jacobs looked at him curiously; then beckoned to Celia.

"You come too, Miss Grant," he said. "You know shorthand--I saw some
scraps of paper in your waste-paper basket. You can take any notes we
want. Splendid thing, shorthand. Wish I could do it. Now then, Mr.
Brown!"--as he closed the door.

"Well, to put it in a word, Mr. Jacobs, _I've got our man_!"

Mr. Jacobs did not start or show any glad surprise, but looked steadily
at Inspector Smith, and at the same time, seemed to be listening; they
could all hear Lord Heyton pacing up and down the hall.

"Mind! I don't take any great credit for it, Mr. Jacobs. It was a fluke:
just a fluke. I caught him red-handed; found him in the wood with the
jewel-case in his hand. Yes, actually in his hand! He must have hidden
it and dug it up."

Mr. Jacobs nodded, but said nothing.

"I've got him in the lock-up," said the Inspector, with an air of
satisfaction which was pardonable in the circumstances. "He went v