The Mystery of the Queen's Necklace

herself from jokes about her name,” chuckled Mart. “Ethelflada!”
    “Another powerful lady in the history of Warwick was Felice,” Miss Trask went on. “Her husband went off on a pilgrimage, and for many years, during the Crusades, Felice held the fortress.”
    “The lady who ruled the castle in the thirteenth century was named Margery,” said McDuff, twinkling at Miss Trask.
    “Not to mention a much more recent Marjorie, who served in the British Expeditionary Forces in the First World War,” Miss Trask informed him with a smile. “She was a Mayor of Warwick, too.”
    “Hey, look—a guard is opening the gate,” said Trixie.
    The Bob-Whites bought their tickets and hurried through the archway in the massive stone walls that surrounded the castle. A long, winding drive was cut through the stone, and huge evergreens towered above them on both sides, blotting out the sunlight. McDuff and Miss Trask wandered off toward the formal gardens, with the understanding that the young folks could take the guided tour.
    “We’ll catch up with you,” Miss Trask promised. “I want to get some ideas for the garden at Manor House.”
    “And ye must see the peacocks,” McDuff added, taking her arm.
    Jim whistled. “What an impregnable fortress! These walls look ten feet thick, and it looks like this driveway is the only way to get in.”
    “That wall over there rises almost a hundred fifty feet above the river,” Mart reported after consulting his guidebook.
    “Does it say anything in there about Guy’s Tower?” asked Trixie. “I’ve heard it has a secret staircase we could explore.”
    “It’s not open to the public,” Mart said after a moment’s search.
    “We can see the dungeons, though,” said Jim. “Sounds like something Trixie would go for.”
    “Let’s go to the Great Hall first,” Honey said. “Isn’t that where Anne said we’d find a clue about my necklace? Oh, I do hope she gets here soon!”
    “I wouldn’t count on it,” said Trixie gloomily. “The police haven’t come up with anything yet on the Rose Room break-in, and Mr. Hart seems angrier than ever. You know—I suppose you guys will think that I’m really getting carried away, but do you think there’s any chance that he’s the one who broke into our room?”
    “You certainly are getting carried away,” Jim scolded. “Why would he want to get such bad publicity for Hartfield House?”
    “And besides, he’s not like that,” added Honey. “Trixie, you just don’t trust anyone anymore! I know you still think Mr. McDuff is a phony. I’ll have to admit I don’t think he sounds all that sincere, either, but I’m prejudiced. I don’t want to lose Miss Trask. And I can never stop being grateful to him for saving my life.”
    “I’ve been thinking about that,” Trixie said darkly. “And you know what I think? That he could have pushed you off that curb himself, just so he could pretend to save you!”
    “Trixie Belden!” Honey gasped. “What a horrible thing to say! Why would anyone do a thing like that?”
    “To get in with us,” said Trixie. “That could be why he borrowed my money and then paid it back— so he could gain our confidence and get to be our guide.”
    “But why would—” Honey broke off as other tourists clustered around and the tour began.
    The tour guide was a tall Englishwoman with a booming voice. After listening to her for a minute, Trixie leaned toward Honey and the boys.
    “Do you think we could just go around by ourselves?” she whispered. “She sounds kind of boring.”
    “But these are terribly famous painters,” said Honey, waving toward the wall. “Just these few pictures must be worth thousands.”
    “And the castle is full of them,” Mart said. “Rubens, Van Dyck, Perugino, Sir Joshua Reynolds, even Rembrandt, not to mention all sorts of other art treasures. I’m with Trixie, though. We can get along just with the guidebook, can’t we, gang?”
    The others agreed and hung back to let the rest of the group go on ahead. They then passed through several rooms, marveling at the exquisite treasures and listening to Mart relate interesting facts from the guidebook.
    “This is all fascinating, but when do we get to the Great Hall?” As usual, Trixie was forging ahead. “Is this it?”
    Mart joined her in the doorway of an enormous room with its furnishings cordoned off by tasseled ropes. “Yep, this is it,” he said.
    The massive stone walls of the Great Hall were