"My men were not thieves, Mr.——" broke in Popple fiercely.
"I am not even hinting that they were," said Raymond. "I only mention the chief obstacle in the way, of a search for the missing gems—granted the almost incredible thing that any man on board the Stella stole them in the belief that he could win clear with his loot before Mrs. Carmac discovered her loss. Do you mean to send for the police?" he continued, addressing Mrs. Carmac. "And—that reminds me—what of the money Mr. Carmac carried in one of his trunks? Is that gone also?"
Mrs. Carmac snapped that she did not mean to trouble the police. The sooner she was out of Pont Aven and free of its oppressive atmosphere the better she would be pleased. Then, apparently ashamed of her petulance, she explained the mystery of the open lock.
Raymond tried to be helpful. He frowned judicially. "Where did you actually place the jewelcase?" he asked.
"In those straps," she said, pointing to the slings attached to the inside of the lid.
"Then isn't it at least possible that you did not actually lock the box, though believing you had done so? In this event the case, being heavy, may have fallen out, and be now somewhere in the locality where the box was found."
"No," said Popple. "The diver had his orders. He searched pertic'lar." His tone was gruff, even hostile. He would be hard to convince that the secretary's reference to the departed members of the yacht's company was not meant as a slur on their character.
Raymond ignored Popple's curtness. "Still, as you yourself said, Captain, the sea acts in a curiously uncertain way at times," he replied blandly. "There will be no harm in making a fresh search tomorrow. Weather permitting, I shall accompany you, if for no other reason than a wish to see once again a place where some of us—not all, unhappily—were so providentially rescued."
Mrs. Carmac rang for Celeste. "Take these articles, and give them to Mademoiselle Julia for distribution among the poor women of the village," she said. Her attitude was eloquent. The pearls were lost irretrievably. She dismissed the subject.
"Mais, Madame," cried the dismayed Celeste, "much of the linen is veritably new, and only requires washing."