Grace
to the wall and was leading her to the door. Her husband's efforts to
detain her, weak and uncertain, were easily frustrated by Hartmann. In a
few moments the door had swung shut upon the detective, and she was
being led up the steps to the room above.

Here she fell into a chair, and looking about, saw huddled on a couch in
the far corner of the room a little, bent old man, who sat with his
white head bowed upon his breast, his hands tied behind his back.
Hartmann went over to him and unfastened his bonds. "You will be happier
in a moment, my friend," he laughed. "This lady is going to set you
free."

Dufrenne--for it was he--sprang to his feet. "How?" he demanded. "How?"
As he spoke, he crossed the room, his eyes gleaming, and faced Grace as
she sat in the chair.

"Wait and see, old man," said Hartmann, roughly. "Stand aside, please."
He pushed Dufrenne impatiently away. "Now, young woman, where is the
ivory snuff box?"

Grace raised her head to reply, when the little old Frenchman turned to
her, pale with anger. "No!" he shouted, starting forward. "You shall not
do this thing. Would you be a traitor to France!"

Grace looked at him and shuddered. His face was quivering with
emotion--his eyes burned with piercing brightness, he seemed about to
spring at her, in his rage. In a moment Hartmann had turned on him. "Be
quiet!" he roared. "I want no interference from you. Mayer!" He pointed
a trembling forefinger at the old Frenchman. "Take this fellow away."

Mayer took Dufrenne by the arm and twisted it cruelly. "No nonsense,
now!" he growled, thrusting the old man toward the couch upon which he
had been sitting. "Hold your tongue, or it will be worse for you."
Dufrenne resisted him as best he could, but his age and feebleness
rendered him helpless. He sank upon the couch, with tears of anger
starting to his eyes.

Grace dared not look at him. The enormity of the thing she was about to
do appalled her. Yet there was Richard, her husband; Richard, whom she
loved with all her soul, in the room below, facing madness, death. The
love she felt for him overmastered all other considerations. She turned
to Hartmann with quivering face. "The box is in the room below," she
cried, in a voice shaking with emotion.

"_Mon Dieu--mon Dieu!_" she heard Dufrenne gasp, as he started from the
couch. "You have ruined us all."

Hartmann and Mayer gazed at each other incredulously. "Impossible!" the
former gasped. "Impossibl