nd jealousy were
roused and burning against them both.

He was determined to find out the place of their retreat, and to take
immediate and signal vengeance.

He put the case in the hands of the most expert detectives, with
instructions to use the utmost caution and secrecy in their
investigations.

He permitted his first theory of the duchess' absence, made in good faith
at the time it was first stated--that she had gone down to Marseilles to
meet him, and had missed him on the way--to prevail in the household,
and penetrate through that medium to the world of Paris.

He left the Hotel de la Motte, which he had only occupied in right of his
wife's family, and saying that he should not return until the arrival of
the duchess, he took up his residence at "_Meurice's_."

He shut himself up in his apartments, and never left them. He refused to
see all visitors except the detectives in his employment. Thus he escaped
the annoyance of having to answer questions and to make explanations.

He had remained at "_Meurice's_" about five days, when Villeponte,
the chief detective, came to him and told him that they had succeeded in
making out the facts connected with the flight of the duchess.

The duke, controlling all manifestations of excitement, directed the
officer to proceed with the story at once.

Villeponte then related that on the Wednesday of the preceding week,
madame, the Duchess of Hereward, had left Paris in company with Monsieur
the Count de Volaski; that they took a coupe on the evening express for
Marseilles, traveling alone together without servants or attendants; that
they were now domiciliated at a vine-dresser's cottage in the little
village of San Vito, at the foot of the Appenines.

Having concluded his information, Monsieur Villeponte asked for further
instructions.

The duke told the detective that he had no further orders to give; but
thanked him for his zeal, congratulated him on his success, paid him
liberally, and bowed him out.

That evening the Duke of Hereward, unattended by groom or valet, took a
coupe on the night express train for the south of France, and started for
Marseilles, en route for Italy.

On the evening of the third day after leaving Paris he reached his
destination--the little hamlet of San Vito at the foot of the Appenines.

He stopped at the small hotel.

Coming alone and unattended, carrying a small valise in his hand, and
looking weary, dusty, and travel-stained,