“Yes,” said Germaine. “It was after we came back from our useless journey to the station. I remembered suddenly that I had started without the pendant. I went to the bureau and picked up the case; and it was empty.” “One moment—one moment,” said M. Formery. “Didn’t you catch this young Bernard Charolais with this case in his hands, your Grace?” “Yes,” said the Duke. “I caught him with it in his pocket.” “Then you may depend upon it that the young rascal had slipped the pendant out of its case and you only recovered the empty case from him,” said M. Formery triumphantly. “No,” said the Duke. “That is not so. Nor could the thief have been the burglar who broke open the bureau to get at the keys. For long after both of them were out of the house I took a cigarette from the box which stood on the bureau beside the case which held the pendant. And it occurred to me that the young rascal might have played that very trick on me. I opened the case and the pendant was there.” “It has been stolen!” cried the millionaire; “of course it has been stolen.” “Oh, no, no,” said the Duke. “It hasn’t been stolen. Irma, or perhaps Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, has brought it to Paris for Germaine.” “Sonia certainly hasn’t brought it. It was she who suggested to me that you had seen it lying on the bureau, and slipped it into your pocket,” said Germaine quickly. “Then it must be Irma,” said the Duke. “We had better send for her and make sure,” said M. Formery. “Inspector, go and fetch her.” The inspector went out of the room and the Duke questioned Germaine and her father about the journey, whether it had been very uncomfortable, and if they were very tired by it. He learned that they had been so fortunate as to find sleeping compartments on the train, so that they had suffered as little as might be from their night of travel. M. Formery looked through his notes; Guerchard seemed to be going to sleep where he stood against the wall. The inspector came back with Irma. She wore the frightened, half-defensive, half-defiant air which people of her class wear when confronted by the authorities. Her big, cow’s eyes rolled uneasily. “Oh, Irma—” Germaine began. M. Formery cut her short, somewhat brusquely. “Excuse me, excuse me. I am conducting this inquiry,” he said. And then, turning to Irma, he added, “Now, don’t be frightened, Mademoiselle Irma; I want to ask you a question or two. Have you brought up to Paris the pendant which the Duke of Charmerace gave your mistress yesterday?” “Me, sir? No, sir. I haven’t brought the pendant,” said Irma. “You’re quite sure?” said M. Formery. “Yes, sir; I haven’t seen the pendant. Didn’t Mademoiselle Germaine leave it on the bureau?” said Irma. “How do you know that?” said M. Formery. “I heard Mademoiselle Germaine say that it had been on the bureau. I thought that perhaps Mademoiselle Kritchnoff had put it in her bag.” “Why should Mademoiselle Kritchnoff put it in her bag?” said the Duke quickly.