“No,” Sir James answered.  “Certainly not here.  The Scotland Yard man may have kept his.”

The room that Mrs. Armitage had occupied presented no peculiar feature.  A few feet below the window the roof of the billiard-room was visible, consisting largely of skylight.  Hewitt glanced casually about the walls, ascertained that the furniture and hangings had not been materially changed since the second robbery, and expressed his desire to see the windows from the outside.  Before leaving the room, however, he wished to know the names of any persons who were known to have been about the house on the occasions of all three robberies.

“Just carry your mind back, Sir James,” he said.  “Begin with yourself, for instance.  Where were you at these times?”

“When Mrs. Heath lost her bracelet, I was in Tagley Wood all the afternoon.  When Mrs. Armitage was robbed, I believe I was somewhere about the place most of the time she was out.  Yesterday I was down at the farm.”  Sir James’ face broadened.  “I don’t know whether you call those suspicious movements,” he added, and laughed.

“Not at all; I only asked you so that, remembering your own movements, you might the better recall those of the rest of the household.  Was anybody, to your knowledge—­anybody, mind—­in the house on all three occasions?”

“Well, you know, it’s quite impossible to answer for all the servants.  You’ll only get that by direct questioning—­I can’t possibly remember things of that sort.  As to the family and visitors—­why, you don’t suspect any of them, do you?”

“I don’t suspect a soul, Sir James,” Hewitt answered, beaming genially, “not a soul.  You see, I can’t suspect people till I know something about where they were.  It’s quite possible there will be independent evidence enough as it is, but you must help me if you can.  The visitors, now.  Was there any visitor here each time—­or even on the first and last occasions only?”

“No, not one.  And my own sister, perhaps you will be pleased to know, was only there at the time of the first robbery.”

“Just so!  And your daughter, as I have gathered, was clearly absent from the spot each time—­indeed, was in company with the party robbed.  Your niece, now?”

“Why hang it all, Mr. Hewitt, I can’t talk of my niece as a suspected criminal!  The poor girl’s under my protection, and I really can’t allow——­”

Hewitt raised his hand, and shook his head deprecatingly.

“My dear sir, haven’t I said that I don’t suspect a soul? Do let me know how the people were distributed, as nearly as possible.  Let me see.  It was your, niece, I think, who found that Mrs. Armitage’s door was locked—­this door, in fact—­on the day she lost her brooch?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Just so—­at the time when Mrs. Armitage herself had forgotten whether she locked it or not.  And yesterday—­was she out then?”