“Supposing for a moment that your theory is true,” continued Nick.  “How do you suppose that Colonel Richmond managed to get the jewels over here?”

The girl became serious in a moment.

“This is a very delicate subject,” she said.  “I hate to cast suspicion upon any one.”

“You refer to the new servant, of course.”

“Well, we know nothing about the girl,” said Mrs. Stevens, “and, of course, when anything so strange happens in the house we naturally think of her.  She brought good references, and she certainly looks honest.”

“Did she have an opportunity to put the jewels into this room?”

“As to that, I have talked it over with my daughter, and it seems just possible that the girl could have done it.  I thought at first that it was not.”

“Of course, it was possible,” exclaimed Miss Stevens.  “She could have run up the back stairs at any time.”

She proceeded to explain this theory, until it seemed quite plausible.

And yet all the time she was filling the detective’s mind with the blackest suspicions against herself.

Here was the case:  The plotters were trying to work on Colonel Richmond’s superstitions.

A celebrated detective had been called in.  If he succeeded, the plotters failed, and the Stevenses lost the jewels.

What more natural than that the criminals should wish to throw the detective on a wrong scent?  Was it not to be expected that they should pitch upon this new servant as the best person with whom to deceive Nick.

Altogether, Miss Stevens was making out a very strong case against herself.

CHAPTER V.

Colonel Richmond’s night adventure.

Of course, Nick questioned the servant.  To have failed to do that would have been to throw light upon his real suspicions.

She was a tall, slender, and rather pretty Irish girl, named Annie O’Neil.

Her answers to all questions were plain and simple.

She told what she had been doing on the previous day while Mrs. Stevens was at lunch.  She had not been in the dining-room all the time, but had come in twice or thrice when summoned.

During the remainder of the time she had been in the kitchen.  Nobody had been with her there.

When Nick left the house, he rode half a mile back along the road, and then dismounted and sat down under a big tree.  In a few minutes a farmer’s wagon came along.  A young man, who looked like a farm laborer, was riding beside the farmer.  He did not ride far beyond the place where Nick was sitting.  In a few minutes they sat together under the tree.  The young farm laborer was Patsy.

“I got your message,” said Patsy.  “I took the chance to ride over from the station with that fellow, and I’ve asked him a few questions about the house where you want me to go on duty.  It seems that there’s no show to get in there on any pretext.  I’ll have to camp around on the outside like a grass-eater.”