"Where is it—where do you keep it?" she asked.
I nodded towards a leather case which was standing up on end in the opposite corner.
"That's it," I said. "Do you think you can put it together and shove in a couple of cartridges? I want to be ready for Manning in case he comes back."
She started towards it, and for the first time the gaping aperture in the fireplace suddenly attracted her attention.
"Yes," I said, "they got the diamonds all right. Your uncle went off hugging them in a bag. I should feel quite pleased about it if I only thought he would be allowed to keep them."
Christine stepped forward to the case, and, laying it on the floor, began to unfasten the straps. In spite of her agitation there was a promptness and efficiency about all her proceedings which filled me with admiration.
"Why were you alone here?" she asked, as she snapped the barrels into their place. "Has anything happened to your naval friend?"
"Something must have happened to him," I replied, "but goodness knows what. He and Campbell, the detective, ought to have been back by eight-thirty. They may turn up any moment now, and——"
Christine rose hastily, holding the loaded gun in her hand. A delightful little tinge of colour had suddenly crept into her face.
"They mustn't find me like this," she faltered. "Could you lend me a coat or something?"