one or other of the servants at Holt must know something of the affair,
even have been an actual accomplice--but which? None of the servants has
been there less than four years, it seems, and several have been in Sir
Roland's service ten and fifteen years--the old butler was born on the
estate. Sir Roland scouts the idea that any of his servants had a hand
in the affair, and he told the police so at once. Even the fact that one
of the thieves had, according to Dick, referred to some woman--he had
said, '_She_ says this drawer has money in it'--wouldn't make Sir Roland
suspect any of the maids.

"The police then asked him in a roundabout way if he thought any of his
guests could have had anything to say to it. Phew! How furious Sir
Roland became with them! You should have seen him--I was with him at the
time. Then suddenly he grew quite calm, realizing that they were, after
all, only trying to do their duty and to help him to trace the thieves.

"'Up to the present I have not, so far as I am aware,' he said in that
cold, dignified way of his, 'entertained criminals at Holt Manor or
elsewhere. No, my man,' he ended, turning to the sergeant, or the
inspector, or whatever he was, 'the men who have stolen my property were
not any of my guests. You may set your minds at rest on that point.'"

Conversation drifted to other topics. Several times during supper I
endeavoured to lead my beautiful companion on to talk about herself, but
on each occasion she cleverly diverted conversation to some other
subject. I confess that when she casually questioned me concerning my
own affairs I was less successful in evading her inquiries; or it may
have been that I, in common with most of my sex, like to talk freely
about "self" and "self's" affairs, especially when the listener is a
beautiful woman who appears to be sympathetic and deeply interested in