Ransford, instead of answering Mitchington’s evidently genuine appeal, looked at the New Scotland Yard man.

“Is that your theory?” he asked.

Jettison nodded his head, with a movement indicative of conviction.

“Yes, sir!” he replied.  “Having regard to all the circumstances of the case, as they’ve been put before me since I came here, and with special regard to the revelations which have resulted in the discovery of these jewels, it is!  Of course, today’s events have altered everything.  If it hadn’t been for our informant—­”

“Who is your informant?” inquired Ransford.

The two callers looked at each other—­the detective nodded at the inspector.

“Oh, well!” said Mitchington.  “No harm in telling you, doctor.  A man named Glassdale—­once a fellow-convict with Brake.  It seems they left England together after their time was up, emigrated together, prospered, even went so far—­both of ’em!—­as to make good the money they’d appropriated, and eventually came back together—­in possession of this secret.  Brake came specially to Wrychester to tell the Duke—­Glassdale was to join him on the very morning Brake met his death.  Glassdale did come to the town that morning—­and as soon as he got here, heard of Brake’s strange death.  That upset him—­and he went away—­only to come back today, go to Saxonsteade, and tell everything to the Duke—­with the result we’ve told you of.”

“Which result,” remarked Ransford, steadily regarding Mitchington, “has apparently altered all your ideas about —­me!”

Mitchington laughed a little awkwardly.

“Oh, well, come, now, doctor!” he said.  “Why, yes—­frankly, I’m inclined to Jettison’s theory—­in fact, I’m certain that’s the truth.”

“And your theory,” inquired Ransford, turning to the detective, “is—­put it in a few words.”

“My theory—­and I’ll lay anything it’s the correct one!—­is this,” replied Jettison.  “Brake came to Wrychester with his secret.  That secret wasn’t confined to him and Glassdale —­either he let it out to somebody, or it was known to somebody.  I understand from Inspector Mitchington here that on the evening of his arrival Brake was away from the Mitre Hotel for two hours.  During that time, he was somewhere—­with whom?  Probably with somebody who got the secret out of him, or to whom he communicated it.  For, think!—­according to Glassdale, who, we are quite sure, has told the exact truth about everything, Brake had on him a scrap of paper, on which were instructions, in Latin, for finding the exact spot whereat the missing Saxonsteade jewels had been hidden, years before, by the actual thief—­who, I may tell you, sir, never had the opportunity of returning to re-possess himself of them.  Now, after Brake’s death, the police examined his clothes and effects—­they never found that scrap of paper!  And I work things out this way.  Brake was followed into that gallery—­a