"So you do not know whether they were of any value, or the usual collection of rubbish found in servants' boxes." "I have not the slightest notion." "Have they ever been thoroughly examined by any one?" "'Pon my honor, I believe not. Now that you remind me of it I think the girl seemed rather anxious on that point. I remember my housekeeper telling me that Harding had asked her if her clothes had been ransacked by the detectives." "And what did the housekeeper say?" "She will tell you herself. Let us have her up." "Don't trouble her. If I remember aright the police did not examine Jane Harding's room. They simply took your report and the statements of the other servants, while the housekeeper was responsible for the partial search made through the girl's boxes for some clue that might lead to her discovery." "That is so." The barrister smoked in silence for a few minutes, until Sir Charles broke out rather querulously: "I suppose I did wrong in letting Harding take her traps?" "No," said Bruce. "It is I who am to blame. There is something underhanded about this young woman's conduct. The story about the sudden wealth is all bunkum, in one sense. That she did receive a bequest or gift of a considerable sum cannot be doubted. That she at once decided to go on the stage is obvious. But what is the usual course for a servant to pursue in such cases? Would she not have sought first to glorify herself in the sight of her fellow-servants, and even of her employers? Would there not have been the display of a splendid departure--in a hansom--with voluble directions to the driver, for the benefit of the footman? As it was, Jane Harding acted suddenly, precipitately, under the stress of some powerful emotion. I cannot help believing that her departure from this house had some connection, however remote, with Lady Dyke's disappearance." "Good heavens, Claude, you never told me this before." "True, but when we last met I had not the pleasure of Miss Marie le Marchant's acquaintance. I wish to goodness I had rummaged her boxes before she carried them off." "And I sincerely echo your wish," said Sir Charles testily. "It always seems, somehow, that I am to blame." "You must not take that view. I really wonder, Dyke, that you have not closed up your town house and gone off to Scotland for the fag-end of the shooting season. You won't hunt, I know, but a quiet life on the moors would bring you right away from associations which must have bitter memories for you." "I would have done so, but I cannot tear myself away while there is the slightest chance of the mystery attending my wife's fate being unravelled. I feel that I must remain here near you. You are the only man who can solve the riddle, if it ever be solved. By the way, what of Raleigh Mansions?"