Three-quarters of an hour later he came back, having changed into clothes more suited to a Paris drawing-room. He went up to the drawing-room, and there he found Guerchard, M. Formery, and the inspector, who had just completed their tour of inspection of the house next door and had satisfied themselves that the stolen treasures were not in it. The inspector and his men had searched it thoroughly just to make sure; but, as Guerchard had foretold, the burglars had not taken the chance of the failure of the police to discover the opening between the two houses. M. Formery told the Duke about their tour of inspection at length. Guerchard went to the telephone and told the exchange to put him through to Charmerace. He was informed that the trunk line was very busy and that he might have to wait half an hour. The Duke inquired if any trace of the burglars, after they had left with their booty, had yet been found. M. Formery told him that, so far, the detectives had failed to find a single trace. Guerchard said that he had three men at work on the search, and that he was hopeful of getting some news before long. “The layman is impatient in these matters,” said M. Formery, with an indulgent smile. “But we have learnt to be patient, after long experience.” He proceeded to discuss with Guerchard the new theories with which the discovery of the afternoon had filled his mind. None of them struck the Duke as being of great value, and he listened to them with a somewhat absent-minded air. The coming examination of Sonia weighed heavily on his spirit. Guerchard answered only in monosyllables to the questions and suggestions thrown out by M. Formery. It seemed to the Duke that he paid very little attention to him, that his mind was still working hard on the solution of the mystery, seeking the missing facts which would bring him to the bottom of it. In the middle of one of M. Formery’s more elaborate dissertations the telephone bell rang. Guerchard rose hastily and went to it. They heard him say: “Is that Charmerace? ... I want the gardener.... Out? When will he be back? ... Tell him to ring me up at M. Gournay-Martin’s house in Paris the moment he gets back.... Detective-Inspector Guerchard ... Guerchard ... Detective-Inspector.” He turned to them with a frown, and said, “Of course, since I want him, the confounded gardener has gone out for the day. Still, it’s of very little importance—a mere corroboration I wanted.” And he went back to his seat and lighted another cigarette. M. Formery continued his dissertation. Presently Guerchard said, “You might go and see how Victoire is, inspector—whether she shows any signs of waking. What did the doctor say?” “The doctor said that she would not really be sensible and have her full wits about her much before ten o’clock to-night,” said the inspector; but he went to examine her present condition.