e intended surrender
which in her folly she regarded as a victory. She promised herself the
pleasure of looking important in this affable gentleman's eyes, but it
was a situation that must be prolonged for proper enjoyment.

"But no, M'sieu," she replied. "It is not at the Manor House that you
should inquire for news. They know nothing there, nor do they greatly
care. How should they be distracted, my so kind friends, by a cr-rime
which is to them but a bagatelle that has disturbed the pleasure of a
summerre day? It is to the police in the town that you should apply."

Nugent's shoulders shrugged with Parisian eloquence. "I have already
pursued inquiries in that quarter, but the police appear to be
completely in the dark, except that they have verified the fact that the
deceased had been staying at the _Plume Hotel_," he said, never
forgetting for an instant to qualify the baldness of his statement with
a respectfully admiring glance.

Mademoiselle's opportunity for dramatic effect had come. It would be far
more interesting to startle this so polite "Milor" than to scarify the
servants' hall at the Manor House, and she could do that later as well.
To the winds with all caution! She must brave Aunt Sarah's wrath if the
old lady took a harsh view of her conduct. The chance to pose was
irresistible and she took the stage there and then.

"M'sieu has been premature," she said, heralding her bomb-shell with a
flash of her fine eyes. "If he returns and puts his questions to the
_sergent-de-ville_ later in the evening he will doubtless be
differently informed. For I, Louise Aubin, am now on my way to indicate
to the authorities the assassin of that poor gentleman."

Travers Nugent's astonishment seemed to overwhelm him. He took a step
back, eyed the girl with something like awe, and touched his lips with
his tongue. "You are not serious?" he gasped. "Do you really mean that
you witnessed the crime?"

The fair Louise lifted her hands in genuine horror. "_Mon Dieu!_ Not so
bad as that," she replied. "But it is all the same as if I had been
there. It is the motive that I go to point out, and the name of the
murderer that I go to give. I who speak to you was the motive, and the
name is Pierre Legros. The _scelerat_ is a seller of onions from a
little French ship that is in the harbour of Exmouth."

And Mademoiselle Aubin proceeded to rattle off the history of her early
courtship by Legros in her native village, and of his i