n my most business-like
manner, "that the document you speak of has been stolen."

"Stolen, Monsieur," she assented whilst the tears once more gathered
in her eyes, "and M. de Marsan now lies at death's door with a
terrible attack of brain fever, brought on by shock when he discovered
the loss."

"How and when was it stolen?" I asked.

"Some time during the morning," she replied. "M. de Talleyrand gave
the document to M. de Marsan at nine o'clock, telling him that he
wanted the copy by midday. M. de Marsan set to work at once, laboured
uninterruptedly until about eleven o'clock, when a loud altercation,
followed by cries of 'Murder!' and of 'Help!' and proceeding from the
corridor outside his door, caused him to run out of the room in order
to see what was happening. The altercation turned out to be between
two men who had pushed their way into the building by the main
staircase, and who became very abusive to the gendarme who ordered
them out. The men were not hurt; nevertheless they screamed as if they
were being murdered. They took to their heels quickly enough, and I
don't know what has become of them, but . . ."

"But," I concluded blandly, "whilst M. de Marsan was out of the room
the precious document was stolen."

"It was, Monsieur," exclaimed Mlle. Geoffroy piteously. "You will
find it for us . . . will you not?"

Then she added more calmly: "My brother and I are offering ten
thousand francs reward for the recovery of the document."

I did not fall off my chair, but I closed my eyes. The vision which
the lovely lady's words had conjured up dazzled me.

"Mademoiselle," I said with solemn dignity, "I pledge you my word of
honour that I will find the document for you and lay it at your feet
or die in your service. Give me twenty hours, during which I will move
heaven and earth to discover the thief. I will go at once to the
Chancellerie and collect what evidence I can. I have worked under M.
de Robespierre, Mademoiselle, under the great Napoleon, and under the
illustrious Fouche! I have never been known to fail, once I have set
my mind upon a task."

"In that case you will earn your ten thousand francs, my friend," said
the odious Arthur drily, "and my sister and M. de Marsan will still be
your debtors. Are there any questions you would like to ask before we
go?"

"None," I said loftily, choosing to ignore his sneering manner. "If
Mademoiselle deigns to present herself here to-morrow at two o'clock I