Mr. Jacobs took up the packet, turned it over, then placed it on the

table and laid his hand on it.

"Shouldn't be surprised," he said, quietly. "And so you've got him in

the lock-up? What's his name?"

"Well, he calls himself 'Sydney Green': an alias, I dare say."

Mr. Jacobs nodded once more. "Very likely, I should say; very likely.

Well, I congratulate you, Inspector. You've done a good morning's work.

Bit of a fluke, as you say; but you've been on the close watch, haven't

you? And there's something more than luck in this. By the way, you

didn't find the two keys--the key of the safe and the key of the

jewel-box--on him?"

"No," said Mr. Brown, easily. "Of course, he's got rid of those; and, in

another hour or two, he'd have got clear off with the jewel-box. I've

got that locked up in my safe. So far as I can see--of course, you can't

tell--it looks as if the contents had not been disturbed; in fact, as if

we'd recovered all the missing property."

"Splendid!" murmured Mr. Jacobs.

"I suppose you'll go down and see him presently?" said Mr. Brown, almost

showing his impatience and irritation at the detective's phlegmatic

calm. Nothing seemed to move this man.

"Presently," said Mr. Jacobs, blandly. "There's a knock at the door.

Please open it, Miss Grant."

Celia did so. Mrs. Dexter stood there. She seemed very agitated.

"Will you please come upstairs, Miss Grant," she said; "and--and, yes,

you two gentlemen. Something strange, terrible, has happened."

Without a word, Mr. Jacobs signed to Celia to lead the way, placing the

packet in his pocket as she did so, and they followed her up to the

Marquess's room. He was lying back with his eyes closed; the doctor's

hand was on his pulse. Mr. Clendon was seated beside the bed, his hand

on the Marquess's shoulder. Mr. Clendon looked troubled, but was quite

calm.

"The Marquess has sent for you that you may hear something he has

resolved to tell you," he said, in a low voice.

The Marquess opened his eyes and looked round; then they fixed

themselves on Heyton, whom Mrs. Dexter had summoned, and who stood

regarding the group sullenly.

"Yes," said the Marquess, feebly, but quite distinctly. "I want to tell

you that this is my brother"--his hand reached for Mr. Clendon's--"my

elder brother. He is Lord Sutcombe, not I. He disappeared and was

supposed to have died. I knew some months ago that he was alive,

but----"




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