"I know. And I'm fearfully sorry about this latest. But, Cynthia--you mustn't send me away--I love you. Do you doubt that?" "No, Allan." "You're the most wonderful girl who has ever come into my life--I want you in it always--beside me--" "At any rate, Allan, a wedding next Tuesday is impossible now." "Yes, I'm afraid it is. And after that--" "After that--I don't know, Allan." Aunt Mary came into the room, distress written plainly in her plump face. No misstep of the peerage was beyond Aunt Mary's forgiveness. She took Harrowby's hand. "I'm so sorry, your lordship," she said. "Most unfortunate. But I'm sure it will all be cleared away in time--" Mr. Huntley made it a point to interrupt. He stood at the door, watch in hand. "Come on," he said. "We've got to start." Harrowby followed the ladies from the room. In the lobby Spencer Meyrick joined them. His lordship shook hands with Aunt Mary, with Mr. Meyrick--then he turned to the girl. "Good-by, Cynthia," he said unhappily. He took her slim white hand in his. Then he turned quickly and started with Huntley for the door. It was at this point that Mr. Minot, his cigar and his cogitations finished, entered upon the scene. "Just a minute," he said to Mr. Huntley. "Not another minute," remarked Huntley with decision. "Not for the King of England himself. We got just fifteen of 'em left to catch that train, and if I know San Marco hackmen--" "You've got time to answer one or two questions." Impressed by Minot's tone, the Meyrick family moved nearer. "There's no doubt, is there, Mr. Huntley, that the necklace you have in your pocket is the one Lord Harrowby brought from England?" "Of course not. Now, get out of the way--" "Are you a good judge of jewels, Mr. Huntley?" "Well, I've got a little reputation in that line. But say--" "Then I suggest," said Minot impressively, "that you examine Chain Lightning's Collar closely." "Thanks for the suggestion," sneered Mr. Huntley. "I'll follow it--when I get time. Just now I've got to--" "You'd better follow it now--before you catch a train. Otherwise you may be so unfortunate as to make a fool of yourself." Mr. Huntley stood, hesitating. There was something in Minot's tone that rang true. The detective again looked at his watch. Then, with one of his celebrated grunts, he pulled out the necklace, and stood staring at it with a new expression. He grunted again, and stepped to a near-by writing-desk, above which hung a powerful electric light. The others followed. Mr. Huntley laid the necklace on the desk, and took out a small microscope which was attached to one end of his watch-chain. With rapt gaze he stared at the largest of the diamonds. He went the length of the string, examining each stone in turn. The expression on Mr. Huntley's face would have made him a star in the "movies." "Hell!" he cried, and threw Chain Lightning's Collar down on the desk. "What's the matter?" Mr. Minot smiled.