ilities of the case, with very indistinct ideas of what a
sardonyx cameo precisely was.

It was in the afternoon of this day that Lord Stanway called on Martin
Hewitt. The marquis was a tall, upstanding man of spare figure and active
habits, well known as a member of learned societies and a great patron of
art. He hurried into Hewitt's private room as soon as his name had been
announced, and, as soon as Hewitt had given him a chair, plunged into
business.

"Probably you already guess my business with you, Mr. Hewitt--you have
seen the early evening papers? Just so; then I needn't tell you again what
you already know. My cameo is gone, and I badly want it back. Of course
the police are hard at work at Claridge's, but I'm not quite satisfied. I
have been there myself for two or three hours, and can't see that they
know any more about it than I do myself. Then, of course, the police,
naturally and properly enough from their point of view, look first to find
the criminal, regarding the recovery of the property almost as a secondary
consideration. Now, from _my_ point of view, the chief consideration is
the property. Of course I want the thief caught, if possible, and properly
punished; but still more I want the cameo."

"Certainly it is a considerable loss. Five thousand pounds----"

"Ah, but don't misunderstand me! It isn't the monetary value of the thing
that I regret. As a matter of fact, I am indemnified for that already.
Claridge has behaved most honorably--more than honorably. Indeed, the
first intimation I had of the loss was a check from him for five thousand
pounds, with a letter assuring me that the restoration to me of the amount
I had paid was the least he could do to repair the result of what he
called his unpardonable carelessness. Legally, I'm not sure that I could
demand anything of him, unless I could prove very flagrant neglect indeed
to guard against theft."

"Then I take it, Lord Stanway," Hewitt observed, "that you much prefer the
cameo to the money?"

"Certainly. Else I should never have been willing to pay the money for the
cameo. It was an enormous price--perhaps much above the market value, even
for such a valuable thing--but I was particularly anxious that it should
not go out of the country. Our public collections here are not so
fortunate as they should be in the possession of the very finest examples
of that class of work. In short, I had determined on the cameo, and,
fortunately, happen t