“I dare say. Yet he can have his pick of sweethearts. I’ve been offered thousands of francs by women—women of your Grace’s world and wealthy Viennese—to make them acquainted with Lupin,” said Guerchard. “You don’t surprise me,” said the Duke with his ironic smile. “Women never do stop to think—where one of their heroes is concerned. And did you do it?” “How could I? If I only could! If I could find Lupin entangled with a woman like Ganimard did—well—” said Guerchard between his teeth. “He’d never get out of YOUR clutches,” said the Duke with conviction. “I think not—I think not,” said Guerchard grimly. “But come, I may as well get on.” He walked across the turf to the foot of the ladder and looked at the footprints round it. He made but a cursory examination of them, and took his way down the garden-path, out of the door in the wall into the space about the house that was building. He was not long examining it, and he went right through it out into the street on which the house would face when it was finished. He looked up and down it, and began to retrace his footsteps. “I’ve seen all I want to see out here. We may as well go back to the house,” he said to the Duke. “I hope you’ve seen what you expected to see,” said the Duke. “Exactly what I expected to see—exactly,” said Guerchard. “That’s as it should be,” said the Duke. They went back to the house and found M. Formery in the drawing-room, still engaged in the process of reconstruction. “The thing to do now is to hunt the neighbourhood for witnesses of the departure of the burglars with their booty. Loaded as they were with such bulky objects, they must have had a big conveyance. Somebody must have noticed it. They must have wondered why it was standing in front of a half-built house. Somebody may have actually seen the burglars loading it, though it was so early in the morning. Bonavent had better inquire at every house in the street on which that half-built house faces. Did you happen to notice the name of it?” said M. Formery. “It’s Sureau Street,” said Guerchard. “But Dieusy has been hunting the neighbourhood for some one who saw the burglars loading their conveyance, or saw it waiting to be loaded, for the last hour.” “Good,” said M. Formery. “We are getting on.” M. Formery was silent. Guerchard and the Duke sat down and lighted cigarettes. “You found plenty of traces,” said M. Formery, waving his hand towards the window. “Yes; I’ve found plenty of traces,” said Guerchard. “Of Lupin?” said M. Formery, with a faint sneer. “No; not of Lupin,” said Guerchard. A smile of warm satisfaction illumined M. Formery’s face: “What did I tell you?” he said. “I’m glad that you’ve changed your mind about that.” “I have hardly changed my mind,” said Guerchard, in his husky, gentle voice.