“That’s what I always carried my jewels in—­in their cases,” she said.  “And they were all in there when I left Christiania a few days ago, and that box has never been out of my sight—­so to speak—­since.  And when I opened it here to-night, wanting the things, it was as empty as it is now.  And if I behave handsomely, and go with Weiss there, to fulfil this engagement, it’ll only be on condition that you stop here, Fullaway, and do your level best to get me my jewels back.  I’ve done all I can—­I’ve told the manager there, and I’ve told those two policemen, and not a man of them seems able to suggest anything!  Perhaps you can.”

With that she disappeared and slammed the door of the bedroom, and the six men, left in a bunch, looked at each other.  Then one of the detectives spoke, shaking his head and smiling grimly.

“It’s all very well to say we suggest nothing,” he said.  “We want some facts to go on first.  Up to now, all the lady’s done is to storm at us and at everybody—­she seems to think all Edinburgh’s in a conspiracy to rob her!  We don’t know any circumstances yet, except that she says she’s been robbed.  Perhaps—­”

“Wait a bit,” interrupted Fullaway.  “Let us get her off to her engagement.  Then we can talk.  I suppose,” he continued, turning to the manager, “she first announced her loss to you?”

“She announced her loss to the whole world, in a way of speaking,” answered the manager, with a dry laugh.

“She screamed it out over the main staircase into the hall!  Everybody in the place knows it by this time—­she took good care they should.  I don’t know how she can have been robbed—­so far as I can learn she’s scarcely been out of these rooms since she came into them yesterday afternoon.  The grand piano had been put in for her before she arrived, and she’s spent all her time singing and playing—­I don’t believe she’s ever left the hotel.  And as I pointed out to her when she fetched me up, she found this box locked when she went to it—­why didn’t the thieves carry it bodily away?  Why—­”

“Just so—­just so!” broke in Fullaway.  “I quite appreciate your points.  But there is more in this than meets the first glance.  Let us get Mademoiselle off to her engagement, I say—­that’s the first thing.  Then we can do business.  Weiss,” he continued, drawing the concert-director aside, “you must arrange to let her appear as soon as possible after you get back to the hall, and to put forward her appearance in the second half of your program, so that she can return here as soon as possible—­she’ll only be in irrepressible fidgets until she knows what’s been done.  And—­you know what she is!—­you ought to be very thankful that she’s allowed herself to be persuaded to go with you.  Mademoiselle,” he went on, as the prima donna, fully attired, but innocent of jewelled ornament, swept into the room, “you are doing the right thing—­bravely!  Go, sing—­sing your best, your divinest—­let your admiring audience recognize that you have a soul above even serious misfortune.  Meanwhile, allow me to order your supper to be served in this room, for eleven o’clock, and permit me and my friend, Mr. Allerdyke, to invite ourselves to share it with you.  Then—­we will give you some news that will interest and astonish you.”