In the meanwhile the police in England had, of course, been communicated with by their French confrères, but before they could move in the matter or enjoin discretion on all concerned, an enterprising young man on the staff of the _Express Post_ had interviewed Miss Elizabeth Spicer, who was the parlour-maid at the Saunderses' flat in Sloane Street. That young lady, it seems, had something to say about a gentleman named Pasquier, who was not an infrequent visitor at the flat. She described him as a fine, tall gentleman, who wore large gold-rimmed spectacles, and a full military moustache. It seems that the last time Miss Elizabeth saw him was two days before her master and mistress's departure for abroad. Mr. Pasquier called late that evening and stayed till past ten o'clock. When Elizabeth was rung for in order to show him out, he was saying good-bye to the captain in the hall, and she heard him say, "in his funny foreign way," as she put it: "Well, I shall be in Paris as soon as you. Tink it over, my friend." And on the top of that came a story told by Henry Tidy, Sir Montague Bowden's butler. According to him Captain Saunders called at Sir Montague Bowden's house in Lowndes Street on the afternoon of the fifteenth. The two gentlemen remained closeted together in the library for nearly an hour, when Tidy was summoned to show the visitor out. Sir Montague, it seems, went to the front door with his nephew, and as the latter finally wished him good-bye, Sir Montague said to him: "My dear boy, you can take it from me that there's nothing to worry about, and in any case I am afraid that it is too late to make any fresh arrangements." "It's because of Mary," the captain rejoined. "She has made herself quite ill over it." "The journey will do her good," Sir Montague went on pleasantly, "but if I were you I would have a good talk with your brother-in-law. He must know his Paris well. Take my advice and spend the night at the Majestic. You can always get rooms there." This conversation Tidy heard quite distinctly, and he related the whole incident both to the journalist and to the police. After that the amateur investigators of crime were divided into two camps: there were those who persisted in thinking that Pasquier and Saunders, and probably Mrs. Saunders also, had conspired together to steal the necklace, and that Saunders had acted the farce of being waylaid and robbed, and losing his memory; they based their deductions on Elizabeth Spicer's evidence and on Mary Saunders's extraordinary persistence in trying to shield the mysterious Pasquier.