“Consider it calmly?  Imagine yourself considering such a thing calmly, Lord Stanway.  I won’t consider it calmly.  I’ll—­I’ll—­I won’t have it.  And if I find another man on my roof, I’ll pitch him off!” And Mr. Woollett bounced into the street again.

“Mr. Woollett is annoyed,” Hewitt observed, with a smile.  “I’m afraid Plummer has a clumsy assistant somewhere.”

Mr. Claridge said nothing, but looked rather glum, for Mr. Woollett was a most excellent customer.

Lord Stanwood and Hewitt walked slowly down the street, Hewitt staring at the pavement in profound thought.  Once or twice Lord Stanway glanced at his face, but refrained from disturbing him.  Presently, however, he observed:  “You seem, at least, Mr. Hewitt, to have noticed something that has set you thinking.  Does it look like a clue?”

Hewitt came out of his cogitation at once.  “A clue?” he said; “the case bristles with clues.  The extraordinary thing to me is that Plummer, usually a smart man, doesn’t seem to have seen one of them.  He must be out of sorts, I’m afraid.  But the case is decidedly a most remarkable one.”

“Remarkable in what particular way?”

“In regard to motive.  Now it would seem, as Plummer was saying to me just now on the roof, that there were only two possible motives for such a robbery.  Either the man who took all this trouble and risk to break into Claridge’s place must have desired to sell the cameo at a good price, or he must have desired to keep it for himself, being a lover of such things.  But neither of these has been the actual motive.”

“Perhaps he thinks he can extort a good sum from me by way of ransom?”

“No, it isn’t that.  Nor is it jealousy, nor spite, nor anything of that kind.  I know the motive, I think—­but I wish we could get hold of Hahn.  I will shut myself up alone and turn it over in my mind for half an hour presently.”

“Meanwhile, what I want to know is, apart from all your professional subtleties—­which I confess I can’t understand—­can you get back the cameo?”

“That,” said Hewitt, stopping at the corner of the street, “I am rather afraid I can not—­nor anybody else.  But I am pretty sure I know the thief.”

“Then surely that will lead you to the cameo?”

“It may, of course; but, then, it is just possible that by this evening you may not want to have it back, after all.”

Lord Stanway stared in amazement.

“Not want to have it back!” he exclaimed.  “Why, of course I shall want to have it back.  I don’t understand you in the least; you talk in conundrums.  Who is the thief you speak of?”

“I think, Lord Stanway,” Hewitt said, “that perhaps I had better not say until I have quite finished my inquiries, in case of mistakes.  The case is quite an extraordinary one, and of quite a different character from what one would at first naturally imagine, and I must be very careful to guard against the possibility of error.  I have very little fear of a mistake, however, and I hope I may wait on you in a few hours at Piccadilly with news.  I have only to see the policemen.”