when Lanyard stayed her with "One moment, Liane!"
With fingers resting lightly on the knob she turned.

"Speak English," he requested briefly. "What about Dupont?"

Simple mention of the man was enough to make the woman wince and lose
colour. Before she replied Lanyard saw the tip of her tongue furtively
moisten her lips.

"Well, and what of him?"

"Do you imagine he has had enough?"

"Who knows? I for one shall feel safe from him only when I knew he is
in the Sante or his grave."

"Suppose he tries to follow us to Cherbourg or to stop us on the
way..."

"How should he know?"

"Tell me who left the doors open for him last night, and I will answer
that question." The woman looked more than ever frightened, but shook
her head. "You didn't fail to question the servants this morning, yet
learned nothing?"

"It was impossible to fix the blame..."

"Have you used all your intelligence, I wonder?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you reflected that, since Dupont got in after you came home, his
accomplice in your household is most probably one of those who were up
at that hour. Who were they?"

"Only two. The footman, Leon..."

"You trust him?"

"Not altogether. Now you make me think, I shall discharge him when I
leave, without notice."

"Wait. Who else?"

"Marthe, my maid."

"You have confidence in her loyalty?"

"Implicit. She has been with me for years."

Lanyard said "Open that door!" in a tone sharp with such authority that
Liane Delorme instinctively obeyed, and the woman whom Lanyard had seen
that morning coming down the stairs with the lighted candle entered
rather precipitately, carrying over one arm an evening wrap of gold
brocade and fur.

"Pardon, madame," she murmured, and paused. Aside from the awkwardness
of her entrance, she betrayed no confusion. "I was about to knock and
ask if madame wished me to pack this..."

"You know very well I shall need it," Liane said ominously. A look from
Lanyard checked a tirade, or more exactly compressed it into a single
word: "Imbecile!"

"Yes, madame."

Marthe hinted at rather than executed a courtesy and withdrew. Liane
shut the door behind her, and reapproached the bed, trembling with an
anger that rendered her forgetful, so that she relapsed into French.

"You think she was listening?"

"English, please!" To this Lanyard added a slight shrug..

"It is hard to believe," Liane averred unhappily. "After all these
years... I have been kind to t