trusted servants whom you sent with him to protect it."
"What!" shrieked the titled collector. He staggered and fumbled madly at his heart; then collapsed into a chair. "Good God!" he muttered, and then again: "Good God!"
"I should have thought you would have been suspicious of evil when your servants did not return," pursued Holmes.
"I have not seen them," whispered Sir Nathaniel. "I do not mingle with my servants. I did not know they had failed to return. Tell me — tell me all!"
"Mr. Edwards," said Sherlock Holmes, turning to our client, "will you repeat your story, please?"
Mr. Harrington Edwards, thus adjured, told the unhappy tale again, ending with a heartbroken cry of "Oh, Sir Nathaniel, can you ever forgive me?"
"I do not know that it was entirely your fault," observed Holmes, cheerfully. "Sir Nathaniel's own servants are the guilty ones, and surely he sent them with you."
"But you said you had solved the case, Mr. Holmes," cried our client, in a frenzy of despair.
"Yes," agreed Holmes, "it is solved. You have
