nking hard.

"Well, you understand the position, don't you, your Grace?" said
Guerchard, in a tone of apology. "Believe me that, personally, I've no
animosity against Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. In fact, the child attracts
me."

"Yes," said the Duke softly, in a musing tone. "She has the air of a
child who has lost its way ... lost its way in life.... And that poor
little hiding-place she found ... that rolled-up handkerchief ...
thrown down in the corner of the little room in the house next door ...
it was absolutely absurd."

"What! A handkerchief!" cried Guerchard, with an air of sudden, utter
surprise.

"The child's clumsiness is positively pitiful," said the Duke.

"What was in the handkerchief? ... The pearls of the pendant?" cried
Guerchard.

"Yes: I supposed you knew all about it. Of course M. Formery left word
for you," said the Duke, with an air of surprise at the ignorance of
the detective.

"No: I've heard nothing about it," cried Guerchard.

"He didn't leave word for you?" said the Duke, in a tone of greater
surprise. "Oh, well, I dare say that he thought to-morrow would do. Of
course you were out of the house when he found it. She must have
slipped out of her room soon after you went."

"He found a handkerchief belonging to Mademoiselle Kritchnoff. Where is
it?" cried Guerchard.

"M. Formery took the pearls, but he left the handkerchief. I suppose
it's in the corner where he found it," said the Duke.

"He left the handkerchief?" cried Guerchard. "If that isn't just like
the fool! He ought to keep hens; it's all he's fit for!"

He ran to the fireplace, seized the lantern, and began lighting it:
"Where is the handkerchief?" he cried.

"In the left-hand corner of the little room on the right on the second
floor. But if you're going to arrest Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, why are
you bothering about the handkerchief? It can't be of any importance,"
said the Duke.

"I beg your pardon," said Guerchard. "But it is."

"But why?" said the Duke.

"I was arresting Mademoiselle Kritchnoff all right because I had a very
strong presumption of her guilt. But I hadn't the slightest proof of
it," said Guerchard.

"What?" cried the Duke, in a horrified tone.

"No, you've just given me the proof; and since she was able to hide the
pearls in the house next door, she knew the road which led to it.
Therefore she's an accomplice," said Guerchard, in a triumphant tone.

"What? Do you think that, too?" cried the