“Yes, I think so.  Is there anything else you would care to see here?”

“No, thank you,” Hewitt replied; “I don’t think there is.”

They went down to the smoking-room, and Sir James went away to speak to his secretary.  When he returned, Hewitt said quietly:  “I think, Sir James—­I think that I shall be able to give you your thief presently.”

“What!  Have you a clue?  Who do you think?  I began to believe you were hopelessly stumped.”

“Well, yes.  I have rather a good clue, although I can’t tell you much about it just yet.  But it is so good a clue that I should like to know now whether you are determined to prosecute when you have the criminal?”

“Why, bless me, of course,” Sir James replied, with surprise.  “It doesn’t rest with me, you know—­the property belongs to my friends.  And even if they were disposed to let the thing slide, I shouldn’t allow it—­I couldn’t, after they had been robbed in my house.”

“Of course, of course!  Then, if I can, I should like to send a message to Twyford by somebody perfectly trustworthy—­not a servant.  Could anybody go?”

“Well, there’s Lloyd, although he’s only just back from his journey.  But, if it’s important, he’ll go.”

“It is important.  The fact is we must have a policeman or two here this evening, and I’d like Mr. Lloyd to fetch them without telling anybody else.”

Sir James rang, and, in response to his message, Mr. Lloyd appeared.  While Sir James gave his secretary his instructions, Hewitt strolled to the door of the smoking-room, and intercepted the latter as he came out.

“I’m sorry to give you this trouble, Mr. Lloyd,” he said, “but I must stay here myself for a little, and somebody who can be trusted must go.  Will you just bring back a police-constable with you? or rather two—­two would be better.  That is all that is wanted.  You won’t let the servants know, will you?  Of course there will be a female searcher at the Twyford police-station?  Ah—­of course.  Well, you needn’t bring her, you know.  That sort of thing is done at the station.”  And, chatting thus confidentially, Martin Hewitt saw him off.

When Hewitt returned to the smoking-room, Sir James said, suddenly:  “Why, bless my soul, Mr. Hewitt, we haven’t fed you!  I’m awfully sorry.  We came in rather late for lunch, you know, and this business has bothered me so I clean forgot everything else.  There’s no dinner till seven, so you’d better let me give you something now.  I’m really sorry.  Come along.”

“Thank you, Sir James,” Hewitt replied; “I won’t take much.  A few biscuits, perhaps, or something of that sort.  And, by the by, if you don’t mind, I rather think I should like to take it alone.  The fact is I want to go over this case thoroughly by myself.  Can you put me in a room?”

“Any room you like.  Where will you go?  The dining-room’s rather large, but there’s my study, that’s pretty snug, or——­”