ff. I was
leaning over the terrace when I saw him emerge into a band of light
caused by the big arc in the castle tower. I forgot that I was in deep
shadow and that he could not possibly see me. I jerked my head back
suddenly, and my diamond star fell out and dropped almost at the feet of
the intruder. Then he saw it, chuckled over it--placed it in his pocket.
I was going to call out, but I didn't. I had a sudden idea, Dr. Bell--I
had an idea that almost amounted to an inspiration."

Chris paused for a moment and her eyes sparkled. Bell was watching her
with the deepest interest and admiration.

"I let the man keep it," Chris went on, more slowly, "with an eye to the
future. The man had stolen the thing and I was in a position to prove
it. He would be pretty sure to pawn the star--he probably has done so by
this time, and therefore we have him in our power. We have only to
discover where the diamonds have been 'planted'--is that the correct
expression?--I can swear an information, and the police will
subsequently search the fellow's lodgings. When the search is made the
missing Rembrandt will be found there. Mr. Merritt would hardly dare to
pawn that."

"Even if he knew its real value, which I doubt," Bell said, thoughtfully.
"Henson would not tell his tool too much. Let me congratulate you upon
your idea, Miss Chris. That diamond star of yours is a powerful factor in
our hands, and you always have the consciousness of knowing that you can
get it back again. Now, what are we going to do next?"

"Going to call upon Mr. Merritt, of course," Chris said, promptly. "You
forget that I have his address. I am deeply interested in the welfare of
the criminal classes, and you are also an enthusiast. I've looked up the
names of one or two people in the directory who go in for that kind of
thing, and I'm going to get up a bazaar at Littimer Castle for the
benefit of the predatory classes who have turned over a new leaf. I am
particularly anxious for Mr. Merritt to give us an address. Don't you
think that will do?"

"I should think it would do very well indeed," Bell said.

The quaint and somewhat exclusive town of Moreton Wells was reached in
due course and the street where the Rev. James Merritt resided located at
length. It was a modest two-storeyed tenement, and the occupier of the
rooms was at home. Chris pushed her way gaily in, followed by Bell,
before the occupant could lay down the foul clay pipe he was smoking and
b