Had the whole matter remained in the hands of X 49, it is possible that your troubles would have lasted you till now. A train of legal proceedings--actions for defamation of character and suits for damages--would have followed, which would have cost more than the value of the jewels, find the entire execration of all your neighbors and every private friend of your domestics. But, happily, the Inspector promptly sends a plain, earnest-looking man, who announces himself as one of the two Detectives of the X division. He settles the whole matter in ten minutes. His examination is ended in five. As a connoisseur can determine the painter of a picture at the first glance, or a wine-taster the precise vintage of a sherry by the merest sip; so the Detective at once pounces upon the authors of the work of art under consideration, by the style of performance; if not upon the precise executant, upon the "school" to which he belongs. Having finished the toilette branch of the inquiry, he takes a short view of the parapet of your house, and makes an equally cursory investigation of the attic-window fastenings. His mind is made up, and most likely he will address you in these words:-- "All right, Sir. This is done by one of 'The Dancing School!'" "Good Heavens!" exclaims your plundered partner. "Impossible, why _our_ children go to Monsieur Pettitoes, of No. 81, and I assure you he is a highly respectable professor. As to his pupils, I--" The Detective smiles and interrupts. "Dancers," he tells her, "is a name given to the sort of burglar by whom she had been robbed; and every branch of the thieving profession is divided into gangs, which are termed 'Schools.' From No. 82 to the end of the street the houses are unfinished. The thief made his way to the top of one of these, and crawled to your garrett"-- "But we are forty houses distant, and why did he not favor one of my neighbors with his visit?" you ask. "Either their uppermost stories are not so practicable, or the ladies have not such valuable jewels." "But how do they know that?" "By watching and inquiry. This affair may have been in action for more than a month. Your house has been watched; your habits ascertained; they have found out when you dine--how long you remain in the dining-room. A day is selected; while you are busy dining, and your servants busy waiting on you, the thing is done. Previously, many journeys have been made over the roofs, to find out the best means of entering your house. The attic is chosen; the robber gets in, and creeps noiselessly, or 'dances' into the place to be robbed." "Is there _any_ chance of recovering our property?" you ask anxiously, seeing the whole matter at a glance. "I hope so. I have sent some brother officers to watch the Fences' houses." "Fences?" "Fences," explains the Detective, in reply to your innocent wife's inquiry, "are purchasers of stolen goods. Your jewels will be forced out of their settings, and the gold melted."