and from what I judged of the man himself.  The only other person was Wilks, and certainly he had a temptation to keep this to himself, and avoid, if possible, sharing with his London director, or principal; while the carriage of the bag by the Irishman gave him a capital opportunity to put suspicion on him, with the results seen.  The most daring of Hollams’ attacks on Leamy was doubtless the attempted maiming or killing at the railway station, so as to be able, in the character of a medical man, to search his pockets.  He was probably desperate at the time, having, I have no doubt, been following Leamy about all day at the Crystal Palace without finding an opportunity to get at his pockets.

“The struggle and flight of Wilks from Hollams’ confirmed my previous impressions.  Hollams, finally satisfied that very morning that Leamy certainly had not the jewel, either on his person or at his lodging, and knowing, from having so closely watched him, that he had been nowhere where it could be disposed of, concluded that Wilks was cheating him, and attempted to extort the ruby from him by the aid of another ruffian and a pistol.  The rest of my way was plain.  Wilks, I knew, would seize the opportunity of Hollams’ being safely locked up to get at and dispose of the ruby.  I supplied him with funds and left him to lead us to his hiding-place.  He did it, and I think that’s all.”

“He must have walked straight away from my house to the churchyard,” Sir Valentine remarked, “to hide that pendant.  That was fairly cool.”

“Only a cool hand could carry out such a robbery single-handed,” Hewitt answered.  “I expect his tools were in the bag that Leamy carried, as well as the jewels.  They must have been a small and neat set.”

They were.  We ascertained on our return to town the next day that the bag, with all its contents intact, including the tools, had been taken by the police at their surprise visit to No. 8 Gold Street, as well as much other stolen property.

Hollams and Wilks each got very wholesome doses of penal servitude, to the intense delight of Mick Leamy.  Leamy himself, by the by, is still to be seen, clad in a noble uniform, guarding the door of a well-known London restaurant.  He has not had any more five-pound notes for carrying bags, but knows London too well now to expect it.

VI.

THE STANWAY CAMEO MYSTERY.

It is now a fair number of years back since the loss of the famous Stanway Cameo made its sensation, and the only person who had the least interest in keeping the real facts of the case secret has now been dead for some time, leaving neither relatives nor other representatives.  Therefore no harm will be done in making the inner history of the case public; on the contrary, it will afford an opportunity of vindicating the professional reputation of Hewitt, who is supposed to have completely failed to make anything of the mystery surrounding the case.  At the present time connoisseurs in ancient objects of art are often heard regretfully to wonder whether the wonderful cameo, so suddenly discovered and so quickly stolen, will ever again be visible to the public eye.  Now this question need be asked no longer.