was a small one in the angle of the wall, not more than a dozen yards from the scene of the tragedy. As we reached it, I gave a cry. There, just short of the threshold, lay the glittering necklace, evidently dropped by the thief in the panic of his flight. I swooped joyously down on it. Then I uttered another cry which Lord Yardly echoed. For in the middle of the necklace was a great gap. The Star of the East was missing!
"That settles it," I breathed. "These were no ordinary thieves. This one stone was all they wanted."
"But how did the fellow get in?"
"Through this door."
"But it's always locked."
I shook my head. "It's not locked now. See." I pulled it open as I spoke.
As I did so something fluttered to the ground. I picked it up. It was a piece of silk, and the embroidery was unmistakable. It had been torn from a Chinaman's robe.
"In his haste it caught in the door," I explained. "Come, hurry. He cannot have gone far as yet."
But in vain we hunted and searched. In the pitch darkness of the night, the thief had found
