'It is certain; more than once. When was the last time? Not many days ago. It was in this box. She took it out of this box, she put it back into the box, and the box she put into the little bottom drawer. I remember it very well. When I heard of Mr Burton's will, I thought of it at once.'

'Then where is it now?'

'She must have taken it out of the box and put it somewhere else.'

'But where? Think!'

'How do I know? how can I think? She must have put it with some of her other jewels. They are everywhere--all over the place.'

Mr c.o.x and Mr Burton exchanged glances. The young gentleman took up the running.

'In that case, we'll look for it all over the place.'

'What do you mean?'

'My dear Lou, I'm going to have that ruby, and before I leave these premises. So, now, you've got it.'

'You will not touch her things?'

'I've no desire to do anything so indelicate. You tell us where it is, or give us a hint.'

'I have not the slightest notion.'

'Then we'll investigate for ourselves.'

'You shall not touch her things!'

'Lou, you gave Guy Holland the tip. You helped him to commit a burglary. Why should you be squeamish now?'

'That was different.'

'Of course it was. He's not attached to you like I am; he doesn't worship the ground you stand upon. It isn't as though you were smitten with Miss Bewicke, because you're not; you've told me so a hundred times. She's going to play some pretty trick on her own account; that's the meaning of her taking out the ruby, which she knew you knew was in that box. And it's a thousand to nothing that she means to play it at my expense. If I can help it, I don't mean to let her have the chance. Your fortune's bound with mine; we sink or swim together. If I don't get that ruby, and to-night, it'll probably mean that I go under, and, if I go, you'll go too. My dear girl, you know you will.

Come, be sensible; be something like your dear own self. Do only half for me what you did for Guy. Let me just have a look round for that wretched ruby. By your own account, it must be somewhere close at hand. I'm sure to get it, and, when I do get it, I'll not forget the part you played. It'll not be my fault if I don't still make you the best husband a woman ever had.'

'I was not here when Mr Holland came. I did not see what he did. I knew nothing.'

'You need not see what we do. We have a little something somewhere which will make you as unconscious of anything that may take place as you can possibly desire. Then, if there is a bother, you will be able to a.s.sume, with perfect propriety, the _role_ of injured victim. But I don't see that there need be trouble, if you keep still. I've as much right to that ruby as anybody else. I'm going to a.s.sert that right, that's all. Now, be a good, kind girl. Go into another room and have a nice little read. We're going to have a ruby hunt. Flyman!'

The Flyman appeared at the open door. At sight of him, Miss Casata broke into a storm of exclamations.

'Not him! He shall not come in here. He killed Mr Holland! I saw him!

Mr Holland's blood is on his hands! I will not have that he come in here!'

'My dearest girl, but that's absurd. He's the only one of the three who understands locks. You don't want us to irretrievably ruin Miss Bewicke's property owing to our sheer want of skill? And for a nose for such a trifle as that ruby we are hunting for he has not his equal. Now, you go and have a nice little read.'

He moved forward with the possible intention of taking her by the arm and leading her from the room. If such was his design, it failed. As he advanced, she slipped past him. Rushing to the door which led into Miss Bewicke's bedroom, she placed herself in front of it. She took out one of the three treasures which were in her pocket--the revolver.

Before the three men had even dreamed that she might be in possession of such a weapon, it was pointed at their heads. Her tone when she spoke was as significant as her att.i.tude.

'If one of you tries to come through this door, I will shoot him dead.

Do not think this revolver is not loaded. I will show you.'

She fired, the bullet penetrating the opposite wall. Mr Thomas c.o.x ducked as it pa.s.sed. His companions instinctively shrank back. Her lips parted in a grim smile. Apparently this was her idea of humour.

'You see I am not so helpless as you perhaps supposed. I am not nervous, not at all. I am used to handle a revolver. I have won prizes for pistol shooting, oh, several times. There are five more barrels which are loaded. If I aim at you, I promise that I will not miss. You shall see.'

The bearing of the trio, in its way, was comical, they were evidently so completely taken by surprise. Mr Thomas c.o.x, in particular, looked as if this were an expedition in which, under the circ.u.mstances, he wished he had not taken part. He said as much.

'Look here, Burton, this is more than I bargained for. Before we came I told you that I was not going to be mixed up with anything equivocal. I have my character to consider. You said your lady friend would listen to reason; if your lady friend won't listen to reason, then I'm sorry, but I'm off.'

'Then you'll lose your money.'

'In that case you'll have to smart for it.'

'That won't give you your money. It's a nice little lot.'

'I know it's a nice little lot, and I can't afford to lose it; you know I can't afford to lose it. But there's something I can afford to lose still less, and that--that's my character.'

'Your character! Why, if you only could manage to get rid of your character--I don't believe you yourself realise what an awful one it is--it'd be the best stroke of business you've done for many a day, my dear c.o.x!'

Mr Burton advanced, as if to tap his friend, in an affable manner, on the shoulder. This brought him within a few feet of where Miss Casata was standing. Laying his left hand on Mr c.o.x's shoulder, with his right he s.n.a.t.c.hed away that gentleman's walking-stick, swung round and struck Miss Casata's outstretched wrist with such violence that the revolver was driven from her grasp and sent flying across the room.

She gave a cry of pain. Her arm fell limp at her side. The blow had been delivered with so much force that it was quite possible her wrist was broken.

'You devil!'

'You wild cat!' returned the gentleman. 'Now, Flyman, on to her!'

The Flyman obeyed. The two gentlemen attacked the lady. Although she fought gamely, especially considering her injured wrist, she was no match for the pair. They got her down upon the floor, still struggling for all that she was worth.

'Now, Flyman, where's that stuff of yours?'

'I'm getting it. She's a oner. She's bit me to the bone.'

With difficulty--he only had one hand disengaged--he evolved a tin canister from his jacket pocket.

'Bite her to the bone! Let her have the lot!'

From the canister the Flyman managed to take a cloth--a cloth which was soaked with some peculiar-smelling fluid. This he jammed against the lady's face, even cramming it between her lips. She writhed and twisted, then lay still.

As the Flyman got up, he examined the hand which she had marked with her teeth.

'She takes a bit of doing. I shouldn't like to have to tackle her single-handed.'

Mr Burton smiled. His clothes were a little rumpled. As he rose he arranged his tie.

'Nice wife she'd make! What do you think?'

Mr c.o.x had occupied his time in picking up the revolver of which the lady had been relieved. He seemed genuinely concerned.

'You know, Burton, I tell you again I didn't come here for this sort of thing. I wouldn't have had this happen not--not for a good deal. I shouldn't be surprised if we get into trouble for this.'