is Lordship had been refreshed and Harrigan had departed, the
Earl said to Holmes:

"Now go on with the bad news. Let's see what kind of an alibi Louis
the soup-maker, pancake-tosser, and egg-breaker, has to offer."

And he nudged the fatuous Inspector Letstrayed in the ribs. That
worthy, who had been thoughtfully regarding the ceiling for some time,
jumped back in surprise.

Just then Thorneycroft returned with the cook,--a short, fat, and
irascible-looking man, with black eyes that seemed to snap fire as he
returned the stare of the phlegmatic Letstrayed, black hair, and a
black mustache and imperial, _a la_ Napoleon III.

"Ah, Monsieur La Violette, what do you know concerning the recent sad
affair here at the castle,--the theft of the diamond cuff-buttons, you
know?" said Holmes, as the Frenchman faced him.

"The diamond cuff-buttons, I know, eh? _Sacre bleu!_" shouted the
Frenchman, his face blazing red with anger, as he nearly hit the
ceiling in his wrath. "You mean to insinuate that I know where they
are, you--you! If you were a gentleman, I'd challenge you to a duel
for that!"

"Here, here, keep your shirt on a minute, Louis," Holmes advised
reassuringly. "I didn't mean to insinuate anything at all. I was just
looking for information."

La Violette regarded Hemlock Holmes for a moment with the bitterest
disdain, then he answered:

"Well, if you're such a smart and sagacious detective as you have been
cracked up to be, you could ascertain who pilfered those accursed
cuff-buttons without using such common methods as lining up the
servants, and asking them if they stole them or not. Any one of the
servants is likely to be guilty, except only Harrigan, Blumenroth, and
myself. All the others are unspeakable imbeciles! Go ahead, then, and
get your information, without casting your despicable insinuations
upon me."

Holmes shrugged his shoulders, and looked at the Earl.

Barnabas Letstrayed at this point evidently thought it was up to him
to pull off something; and he did,--more than he thought.

"Er, Hi say," he began, with great importance, as he motioned to the
cook's cuffs, "aren't those the lost cuff-buttons this fellow is
wearing now? They look just like them, Hi think."

Every one stared at La Violette's cuffs, and that worthy nearly had an
apoplectic fit, as the Earl, after having taken one look at the cook's
jewelry, leaned back in his chair and laughed.

"Say, Inspector, those aren't the lost