On this day two or three loiterers, having heard of the robbery, extracted what gratification they might from staring at nothing between the railings guarding the windows.  Within, Mr. Claridge, a brisk, stout, little old man, was talking earnestly to a burly police-inspector in uniform, and Mr. Cutler, who had seized the opportunity to attempt amateur detective work on his own account, was groveling perseveringly about the floor, among old porcelain and loose pieces of armor, in the futile hope of finding any clue that the thieves might have considerately dropped.

Mr. Claridge came forward eagerly.

“The leather case has been found, I am pleased to be able to tell you, Lord Stanway, since you left.”

“Empty, of course?”

“Unfortunately, yes.  It had evidently been thrown away by the thief behind a chimney-stack a roof or two away, where the police have found it.  But it is a clue, of course.”

“Ah, then this gentleman will give me his opinion of it,” Lord Stanway said, turning to Hewitt.  “This, Mr. Claridge, is Mr. Martin Hewitt, who has been kind enough to come with me here at a moment’s notice.  With the police on the one hand and Mr. Hewitt on the other we shall certainly recover that cameo, if it is to be recovered, I think.”

Mr. Claridge bowed, and beamed on Hewitt through his spectacles.  “I’m very glad Mr. Hewitt has come,” he said.  “Indeed, I had already decided to give the police till this time to-morrow, and then, if they had found nothing, to call in Mr. Hewitt myself.”

Hewitt bowed in his turn, and then asked:  “Will you let me see the various breakages?  I hope they have not been disturbed.”

“Nothing whatever has been disturbed.  Do exactly as seems best.  I need scarcely say that everything here is perfectly at your disposal.  You know all the circumstances, of course?”

“In general, yes.  I suppose I am right in the belief that you have no resident housekeeper?”

“No,” Claridge replied, “I haven’t.  I had one housekeeper who sometimes pawned my property in the evening, and then another who used to break my most valuable china, till I could never sleep or take a moment’s ease at home for fear my stock was being ruined here.  So I gave up resident housekeepers.  I felt some confidence in doing it because of the policeman who is always on duty opposite.”

“Can I see the broken desk?”

Mr. Claridge led the way into the room behind the shop.  The desk was really a sort of work-table, with a lifting top and a lock.  The top had been forced roughly open by some instrument which had been pushed in below it and used as a lever, so that the catch of the lock was torn away.  Hewitt examined the damaged parts and the marks of the lever, and then looked out at the back window.

“There are several windows about here,” he remarked, “from which it might be possible to see into this room.  Do you know any of the people who live behind them?”