Hugh sat down on a trunk.
"It's right enough, Watty," he groaned, "except that I never sent such a message and I haven't a man."
"What sort of fellow was this messenger?" I asked.
Watkins turned to me, a look of bewilderment in his face.
"An Eastern-looking gentleman, 'e was, sir, like the Gypsies 'is ludship occasionally 'as down to Chesby. Strange, I thought it, sir, Mister Hugh, that you should be 'aving a gentleman like that to valet you—but as I said to 'is ludship, likely it's not easy to find servants in America."
"How long ago did Uncle James leave, Watty?" asked Hugh.
"Nearly an hour, sir."
"Time enough for him to have reached the apartment. Jack, do you mind telephoning on the off-chance? I'll fetch an inspector to go over this stuff."
I had no difficulty in getting the apartment. The cleaning woman who "did" for us answered. No, nobody had called, and there had been no telephone messages. I hastened back to the C space with a sense of ugly forebodings. Hugh I found colloguing with Watkins, while two Customs men opened the pile of Lord Chesby's baggage.
"Do you know, Jack," said Hugh seriously, "I am beginning to think that something sinister may have happened? Watty tells me that he and Uncle James are just come from Constantinople. He says my uncle went there convinced that he had discovered the key to the treasure's hiding-place, but in some unexplained way Uncle James was deterred from carrying out his plans, and they returned hurriedly to England."