Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone， standingback a little from the road. A double carriage-sweep， with a snowcladlawn， stretched down in front to two large iron gates whichclosed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket，which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges stretchingfrom the road to the kitchen door， and forming the tradesmen’sentrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the stables， and wasnot itself within the grounds at all， being a public， though littleused， thoroughfare. Holmes left us standing at the door andwalked slowly all round the house， across the front， down thetradesmen’s path， and so round by the garden behind into thestable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into thedining-room and waited by the fire until he should return. Wewere sitting there in silence when the door opened and a younglady came in. She was rather above the middle height， slim， withdark hair and eyes， which seemed the darker against the absolutepallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever seen such deadlypaleness in a woman’s face. Her lips， too， were bloodless， but hereyes were flushed with crying. As she swept silently into the roomshe impressed me with a greater sense of grief than the banker haddone in the morning， and it was the more striking in her as she wasevidently a woman of strong character， with immense capacity forself-restraint. Disregarding my presence， she went straight to heruncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress.
“You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated， haveyou not， dad？” she asked.
“No， no， my girl， the matter must be probed to the bottom.”
“But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman’sinstincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you willbe sorry for having acted so harshly.”
“Why is he silent， then， if he is innocent？”
“Who knows？ Perhaps because he was so angry that you shouldsuspect him.”
“How could I help suspecting him， when I actually saw him withthe coronet in his hand？”
“Oh， but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh， do， do takemy word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say nomore. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in prison！”
“I shall never let it drop until the gems are found—never， Mary！
Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequencesto me. Far from hushing the thing up， I have brought a gentlemandown from London to inquire more deeply into it.”
“This gentleman？” she asked， facing round to me.
“No， his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round inthe stable lane now.”
“The stable lane？” She raised her dark eyebrows. “What canhe hope to find there？ Ah！ this， I suppose， is he. I trust， sir， thatyou will succeed in proving， what I feel sure is the truth， that mycousin Arthur is innocent of this crime.”
“I fully share your opinion， and I trust， with you， that we mayprove it，” returned Holmes， going back to the mat to knock thesnow from his shoes. “I believe I have the honour of addressingMiss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two？”
“Pray do， sir， if it may help to clear this horrible affair up.”
“You heard nothing yourself last night？”
“Nothing， until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heardthat， and I came down.”
“You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did youfasten all the windows？”
“Yes.”
“Were they all fastened this morning？”
“Yes.”
“You have a maid who has a sweetheart？ I think that youremarked to your uncle last night that she had been out to seehim？”
“Yes， and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room， andwho may have heard uncle’s remarks about the coronet.”
“I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell hersweetheart， and that the two may have planned the robbery.”
“But what is the good of all these vague theories，” cried thebanker impatiently， “when I have told you that I saw Arthur withthe coronet in his hands？”
“Wait a little， Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. Aboutthis girl， Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door， Ipresume？”
“Yes； when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night Imet her slipping in. I saw the man， too， in the gloom.”
“Do you know him？”
“Oh， yes！ he is the green-grocer who brings our vegetablesround. His name is Francis Prosper.”
“He stood，” said Holmes， “to the left of the door—that is to say，farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door？”
“Yes， he did.”
“And he is a man with a wooden leg？”
Something like fear sprang up in the young lady’s expressiveblack eyes. “Why， you are like a magician，” said she. “How doyou know that？” She smiled， but there was no answering smile inHolmes’s thin， eager face.
“I should be very glad now to go upstairs，” said he. “I shallprobably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps Ihad better take a look at the lower windows before I go up.”
He walked swiftly round from one to the other， pausing only atthe large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. Thishe opened and made a very careful examination of the sill with hispowerful magnifying lens. “Now we shall go upstairs，” said he atlast.
The banker’s dressing-room was a plainly furnished littlechamber， with a grey carpet， a large bureau， and a long mirror.
Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock.
“Which key was used to open it？” he asked.
“That which my son himself indicated—that of the cupboard ofthe lumber-room.”
“Have you it here？”
“That is it on the dressing-table.”
Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau.
“It is a noiseless lock，” said he. “It is no wonder that it did notwake you. This case， I presume， contains the coronet. We musthave a look at it.” He opened the case， and taking out the diademhe laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of thejeweller’s art， and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I haveever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge， where acorner holding three gems had been torn away.