"Yes--but not then. That was a few minutes before seven. A servant saw him on the top landing coming out of his own room with something wrapped up in a parcel, after that. And another, who was busy cleaning up in the lower hall, saw him come down and go out at ten minutes past." "And in the meantime, the Ladder of Light had vanished?" "Yes. After Henry had left the boudoir I had a few minutes' heated argument with Lady Leake; then, remembering the work I had in hand, I left the necklace in her charge and hurried away to rig up a temporary workshop. It was about twenty minutes past seven when I finished doing that, and went back to Lady Leake's boudoir to get the jewel. I found her in a state of the wildest excitement, flying about the room like an insane woman and searching everywhere. The necklace was gone! Only for one single minute of time had it been out of her sight, yet in that minute it had vanished, utterly and completely, and there was not a trace of it to be found anywhere." "H'm! Just so! Case gone, too, Sir Mawson?" "No! That was still there, lying on her dressing-table, but it was empty." "I see. So, then, it could not have been that that was wrapped up in the parcel your son was seen carrying. Anybody in that room after Sir Mawson left you, your ladyship?" "Not a living soul, Mr. Cleek." "Could no one have stolen it without your knowledge?" "That would be impossible. I locked the door the instant Sir Mawson left me." "Ah, then, of course! Another question, please. Sir Mawson has spoken of there being 'one single minute' when the necklace was not directly under your eyes. When was that?" "When I left the room, Mr. Cleek." "Oho! Then you did leave it, eh?" "Yes. It was thoughtless of me, of course; but I only ran down to the foot of the staircase, when I remembered, and ran back in a perfect panic. Still I had locked the door in going out even then and the key was in my hand. It was still locked when I returned, but in that one single minute the necklace had disappeared. I was gratifying my woman's vanity by holding it up to my throat and viewing myself in the glass just an instant before, and I remember perfectly, laying it down on the velvet lining of its open case at the time I recollected the matter which caused me to leave the room." "May I ask what that matter was?" "Yes. A service I had promised to perform for Miss Eastman." "Miss Eastman? Who is she?" "My son's fiancée. She and her father are visiting us at present. Curzon met and became engaged to Miss Eastman on the occasion of her last visit to England, and this time her father is accompanying her." "Her last _visit?_ Then the lady and her father are not English?"