Mr. Meyer turned abruptly on his heels, and left the room.
"Come along, Sir Rupert, please," said Mr. Marvell. In the brilliant moonshine they went along the terrace by the stone dogs, and down the steps to the beach. They found the boat by the trees.
"How did Mr. Meyer come to suspect my errand?" said Ingletree suddenly.
The detective smiled a wan smile.
"Well, sir," he replied, "I wasn't present when you saw him on Saturday, but I think that Mr. Meyer read you through as if you were a book—printed in pretty big letters, too. It was a rather thin tale, that about the magazine article, and when you asked to see round the house Mr. Meyer was certain that you had some special object in view. When you inquired after the miniatures he knew what you were after, as the papers had lately been full of the Holbein. To make sure on the point he didn't show it to you, and of course you asked to see it. Then he telegraphed to Scotland Yard, and they sent me."
"How did you find out who I was, and why I wanted the miniature?"
"Ah," said Mr. Marvell drily, "I'll tell you that some day later on, Sir Rupert. We shall probably meet again."
Then the baronet put out to sea, and the detective went back to the Tuscan Villa.