"Impossible!--they couldn't carry property away--going as they seem to have done--or are said to have done!" Hollins coughed behind one of his big, fat hands, and glanced knowingly at Mr.Lindsey, who was listening silently but with deep attention.
"I'm not so sure about that, sir," he said.

"You're aware that there were certain small matters at Hathercleugh of what we may term the heirloom nature, though whether they were heirlooms or not I can't say--the miniature of himself set in diamonds, given by George the Third to the second baronet; the necklace, also diamonds, which belonged to a Queen of Spain; the small picture, priceless, given to the fifth baronet by a Czar of Russia; and similar things, Mr.Portlethorpe.And, gentlemen, the family jewels!--all of which had been reset.

They've got all those!" "You mean to say--of your own knowledge--they're not at Hathercleugh ?" suddenly inquired Mr.Lindsey.
"I mean to say they positively are not, sir," replied the butler.

"They were kept in a certain safe in a small room used by Lady Carstairs as her boudoir.

Her ladyship left very hastily and secretly yesterday, as I understand the police have told you, and, in her haste, she forgot to lock up that safe--which she had no doubt unlocked before her departure.
That safe, sir, is empty--of those things, at any rate." "God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr.Portlethorpe, greatly agitated.