"This is the story," said Mrs. Faulkner. "About an hour ago, Mrs. Stannard sent for me to come to her room. I went, and she showed me the case of gems, saying she had found it on her dressing-table when she awoke this morning. It was not there when she retired last night. Further than that, she knows nothing about it." "You mean, the jewels appeared there mysteriously?" "Yes. She cannot account for it, herself. We have been talking it over, and it seems to me the only explanation is that one of the servants took them, and then decided to return them. Of course it would be practically impossible for a servant to sell or dispose of them after the publicity that has been given to the matter." "Of course. But why a servant? Why not a guest--or a member of the household,--or--or Mrs. Stannard, herself?" "I!" exclaimed Joyce. "Why I've just found them!" "Didn't you have them all the time?" "Of course not! How dare you imply such a thing? This morning they were in my room, last night they were not there. They were brought there during the night. It is for you to find out who brought them." "Was the door of your bedroom locked?" "No. It is not our habit to lock our doors,--any of us. The outer doors and windows are securely fastened, and we have no reason to distrust any of the servants." "Where were the gems this morning?" "On my dressing-table, in my dressing-room, adjoining my sleeping room." "Who do you think put them there?" "Whoever stole them the night my husband was killed." "And who do you think that was?" "Whoever killed him, of course." "Perhaps not," said Mrs. Faulkner, thoughtfully. "Perhaps the thief and the murderer were not the same person." "That may be so," agreed Bobsy. "Have you any theory or suspicion based on the return of the jewels, Mrs. Faulkner?" "No; except a general idea that the emeralds might have been stolen and returned by a servant, and the murder committed by an intruder." "Why not assume that the intruder also took the jewels?" "Only because it would be difficult for him to get into the house and return them to Mrs. Stannard. I can see no explanation of that act save that a servant did it." "Or an outsider with the connivance of one of the servants." "Yes, that might be," agreed Mrs. Faulkner. "The mere placing of the case in Mrs. Stannard's dressing-room would not be difficult. The doors all over the house are open or unlocked at night, and a servant could easily slip in and out of the room unheard." "You heard no unusual sound in the night, Mrs. Stannard?" "None," said Joyce.