emin."

"I confess I entertain a sneaking fondness for his memory."

"You can hardly call yourself an impartial judge--"

"It is nevertheless true he did not steal the jewels."

"Then tell me who did take them."

"Unfortunately for Duchemin, that remains a mystery."

"Rather, I should say, fortunately for him."

"You would wrong him, then."

"But why, if innocent, did he run away?"

"I imagine, because he knew he would surely be accused, in which case
ancient history would be revived to prove him guilty beyond a question
in the mind of any sane court."

"Does one understand he had a history?"

"I have heard it intimated such was the case."

"But I remain in the dark. The theft presumably was not discovered till
after his disappearance. Yet, according to your contention, he must
have known of it in advance. How do you account for that?"

"Mademoiselle would make a famous juge d'instruction."

"That does not answer my argument."

"How is one to answer it? Who knows how Duchemin discovered the theft
before the ladies of the chateau did?"

"Do you know what you make me think? That he was not as innocent as you
assert."

"Mademoiselle will explain?"

"I have a suspicion that this Monsieur Duchemin was guilty in
intention; but when it came to put his intention into execution, he
found he had been anticipated."

"Mademoiselle is too clever for me. Now I should never have thought of
that."

"He would have been wiser to stay and fight it out. The very fact of
his flight confesses his guilt."

"Perhaps he did not remember that until too late."

"And now nothing can clear him. How sad for him! A chance meeting with
one who is not his friend, a whispered word to the Prefecture, or the
nearest agent de police, and within an hour he finds himself in the
Sante."

"Poor chap!" said Lanyard with a doleful shake of the head.

"I, too, pity him," the woman declared. "Monsieur: against my
prejudice, your faith in Duchemin has persuaded me. I am convinced that
he is innocent."

"How good you are!" "It makes me glad I have so well forgotten ever
meeting him. I do not believe I should know him if I found him here, in
this very restaurant, even seated by my side."

"It is mademoiselle now whose heart is great and kind."

"You may believe it well."

"And does mademoiselle's forgetfulness, perhaps, extend even farther
into the so dead past?"

"But, monsieur, I was a mere child when I first came to Paris, be