On dressing for dinner she found that
her jewel-case had been rifled and the pearls, worth twenty thousand
pounds sterling, were missing!

"The police have a theory that the guilty person was introduced into
the castello by one of the many servants," the report went on. "The
thief, whoever it was, must, however, have had great difficulty in
reaching the Princess' room, as the Baron, knowing that his lady
guests bring valuable jewelry, always sets a watch upon the only
staircase by which the ladies' rooms can be approached."

With the paper in my hand the train slowly drew out of Rome on its way
south. My mind was filled with suspicion. I was wondering vaguely
whether the Marchesa Romanelli had been among the guests, for I
recollected those words of Fra Pacifico that "the woman had committed
sacrilege in the House of God."

Could it be possible that he knew the Marchesa to be a thief who had
stolen some valuable church plate from one or other of the ancient
churches in Italy? If so, then, though the wife of the Admiral, she
was also a thief.

On arrival at Salerno I took Madame aside, and telling her of my
adventure with the man Hauser, I showed her the newspaper and declared
my suspicions.

"It may be so," she said. "If she is so friendly with this banker
whose past is quite obscure, it may be her hand which takes the stuff
and passes it on to Zuccari, who in turn sells it to Hauser."

With that theory I agreed.

On the following day I took train into Naples, and that afternoon I
called upon the Marchesa.

Fortunately I found her alone, and when I was shown into her _salon_ I
thought she looked rather wan and pale, but she greeted me affably and
expressed delight that I should call before returning to England.

As we chatted she let drop, as I expected she would, the fact that she
had been staying at the Castello di Antigniano.

"You've seen in the papers, I suppose, all about the pearls of the
Princess di Acquanero?" she went on. "A most mysterious affair!"

I looked the pretty woman straight in the face, and replied:

"Not so very mysterious, Marchesa."

"Why not?" she asked, opening her big, black eyes widely.

"Not so mysterious if I may be permitted to look inside that ornament
over there--the heirloom of the Romanelli--the Silver Spider," I said
calmly.

"What do you mean?" she cried resentfully. "I don't understand you."

I smiled.

"Then let me be a little more explicit," I said. "Have you