Duke. "Good Heavens! And it's
me! ... It's my senselessness! ... It's my fault that you've got your
proof!" He spoke in a tone of acute distress.

"It was your duty to give it me," said Guerchard sternly; and he began
to mount the steps.

"Shall I come with you? I know where the handkerchief is," said the
Duke quickly.

"No, thank you, your Grace," said Guerchard. "I prefer to go alone."

"You'd better let me help you," said the Duke.

"No, your Grace," said Guerchard firmly.

"I must really insist," said the Duke.

"No--no--no," said Guerchard vehemently, with stern decision. "It's no
use your insisting, your Grace; I prefer to go alone. I shall only be
gone a minute or two."

"Just as you like," said the Duke stiffly.

The legs of Guerchard disappeared up the steps. The Duke stood
listening with all his ears. Directly he heard the sound of Guerchard's
heels on the floor, when he dropped from the chimney-piece of the next
room, he went swiftly to the door, opened it, and went out. Bonavent
was sitting on the chair on which the young policeman had sat during
the afternoon. Sonia, in her hat and cloak, was half-way down the
stairs.

The Duke put his head inside the drawing-room door, and said to the
empty room: "Here is Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, M. Guerchard." He held
open the door, Sonia came down the stairs, and went through it. The
Duke followed her into the drawing-room, and shut the door.

"There's not a moment to lose," he said in a low voice.

"Oh, what is it, your Grace?" said Sonia anxiously.

"Guerchard has a warrant for your arrest."

"Then I'm lost!" cried Sonia, in a panic-stricken voice.

"No, you're not. You must go--at once," said the Duke.

"But how can I go? No one can get out of the house. M. Guerchard won't
let them," cried Sonia, panic-stricken.

"We can get over that," said the Duke.

He ran to Guerchard's cloak, took the card-case from the inner pocket,
went to the writing-table, and sat down. He took from his waist-coat
pocket the permit which Guerchard had given him, and a pencil. Then he
took a card from the card-case, set the permit on the table before him,
and began to imitate Guerchard's handwriting with an amazing exactness.
He wrote on the card:

"Pass Mademoiselle Kritchnoff."
"J. GUERCHARD."

Sonia stood by his side, panting quickly with fear, and watched him do
it. He had scarcely finished the last stroke, when they heard a noise
on the other side of t