Miss Trelawny stepped over and laid her hand on his arm.  I looked at her in amazement.  All the passion and pain which had so moved her seemed to have taken the form of resolution.  Her form was erect, her eyes blazed; energy was manifest in every nerve and fibre of her being.  Even her voice was full of nervous power as she spoke.  It was apparent that she was a marvellously strong woman, and that her strength could answer when called upon.

“We must act at once!  My Father’s wishes must be carried out if it is possible to us.  Mr. Ross, you are a lawyer.  We have actually in the house a man whom you consider one of the best detectives in London.  Surely we can do something.  We can begin at once!” Mr. Corbeck took new life from her enthusiasm.

“Good!  You are your Father’s daughter!” was all he said.  But his admiration for her energy was manifested by the impulsive way in which he took her hand.  I moved over to the door.  I was going to bring Sergeant Daw; and from her look of approval, I knew that Margaret—­Miss Trelawny—­understood.  I was at the door when Mr. Corbeck called me back.

“One moment,” he said, “before we bring a stranger on the scene.  It must be borne in mind that he is not to know what you know now, that the lamps were the objects of a prolonged and difficult and dangerous search.  All I can tell him, all that he must know from any source, is that some of my property has been stolen.  I must describe some of the lamps, especially one, for it is of gold; and my fear is lest the thief, ignorant of its historic worth, may, in order to cover up his crime, have it melted.  I would willingly pay ten, twenty, a hundred, a thousand times its intrinsic value rather than have it destroyed.  I shall tell him only what is necessary.  So, please, let me answer any questions he may ask; unless, of course, I ask you or refer to either of you for the answer.”  We both nodded acquiescence.  Then a thought struck me and I said: 

“By the way, if it be necessary to keep this matter quiet it will be better to have it if possible a private job for the Detective.  If once a thing gets to Scotland Yard it is out of our power to keep it quiet, and further secrecy may be impossible.  I shall sound Sergeant Daw before he comes up.  If I say nothing, it will mean that he accepts the task and will deal with it privately.”  Mr. Corbeck answered at once: 

“Secrecy is everything.  The one thing I dread is that the lamps, or some of them, may be destroyed at once.”  To my intense astonishment Miss Trelawny spoke out at once, but quietly, in a decided voice: 

“They will not be destroyed; nor any of them!” Mr. Corbeck actually smiled in amazement.

“How on earth do you know?” he asked.  Her answer was still more incomprehensible: 

“I don’t know how I know it; but know it I do.  I feel it all through me; as though it were a conviction which has been with me all my life!”