La
Caille. But you will not mention it? You will not ruin me?"

"I will not," answered. M. Ricardo, superb in his magnanimity. "You are
a good detective."

"Oh, thank you! thank you!" cried Hanaud in a voice which shook--surely
with emotion. He wrung Ricardo's hand. He wiped an imaginary tear from
his eye.

And still Celia slept. M. Ricardo looked at her. He said to Hanaud in a
whisper:

"Yet I do not understand. The car, though no serious search was made,
must still have stopped at the Pont de La Caille on the Swiss side. Why
did she not cry for help then? One cry and she was safe. A movement
even was enough. Do you understand?"

Hanaud nodded his head.

"I think so," he answered, with a very gentle look at Celia. "Yes, I
think so."

When Celia was aroused she found that the car had stopped before the
door of an hotel, and that a woman in the dress of a nurse was standing
in the doorway.

"You can trust Marie," said Hanaud. And Celia turned as she stood upon
the ground and gave her hands to the two men.

"Thank you! Thank you both!" she said in a trembling voice. She looked
at Hanaud and nodded her head. "You understand why I thank you so very
much?"

"Yes," said Hanaud. "But, mademoiselle"--and he bent over the car and
spoke to her quietly, holding her hand--"there is ALWAYS a big
Newfoundland dog in the worst of troubles--if only you will look for
him. I tell you so--I, who belong to the Surete in Paris. Do not lose
heart!" And in his mind he added: "God forgive me for the lie." He
shook her hand and let it go; and gathering up her skirt she went into
the hall of the hotel.

Hanaud watched her as she went. She was to him a lonely and pathetic
creature, in spite of the nurse who bore her company.

"You must be a good friend to that young girl, M. Ricardo," he said.
"Let us drive to your hotel."

"Yes," said Ricardo. And as they went the curiosity which all the way
from Geneva had been smouldering within him burst into flame.

"Will you explain to me one thing?" he asked. "When the scream came
from the garden you were not surprised. Indeed, you said that when you
saw the open door and the morphia-needle on the table of the little
room downstairs you thought Adele and the man Hippolyte were hiding in
the garden."

"Yes, I did think so."

"Why? And why did the publication that the jewels had been discovered
so alarm you?"

"Ah!" said Hanaud. "Did not you understand that? Yet it is surely clear
a