maids. But if it were the maids, why should your son allow himself to be

accused in their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his

cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he should retain her

secret—the more so as the secret was a disgraceful one. When I remembered

that you had seen her at that window, and how she had fainted on seeing the

coronet again, my conjecture became a certainty.


“And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, for who

else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to you? I knew

that you went out little, and that your circle of friends was a very limited

one. But among them was Sir George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as being

a man of evil reputation among women. It must have been he who wore those boots

and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered

him, he might still flatter himself that he was safe, for the lad could not say

a word without compromising his own family.


“Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took next. I went

in the shape of a loafer to Sir George’s house, managed to pick up an

acquaintance with his valet, learned that his master had cut his head the night

before, and, finally, at the expense of six shillings, made all sure by buying

a pair of his cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and saw

that they exactly fitted the tracks.”


“I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening,” said

Mr. Holder.


“Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home and

changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to play then, for I saw

that a prosecution must be avoided to avert scandal, and I knew that so astute

a villain would see that our hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him.

At first, of course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every particular