“M. Formery took the pearls, but he left the handkerchief. I suppose it’s in the corner where he found it,” said the Duke. “He left the handkerchief?” cried Guerchard. “If that isn’t just like the fool! He ought to keep hens; it’s all he’s fit for!” He ran to the fireplace, seized the lantern, and began lighting it: “Where is the handkerchief?” he cried. “In the left-hand corner of the little room on the right on the second floor. But if you’re going to arrest Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, why are you bothering about the handkerchief? It can’t be of any importance,” said the Duke. “I beg your pardon,” said Guerchard. “But it is.” “But why?” said the Duke. “I was arresting Mademoiselle Kritchnoff all right because I had a very strong presumption of her guilt. But I hadn’t the slightest proof of it,” said Guerchard. “What?” cried the Duke, in a horrified tone. “No, you’ve just given me the proof; and since she was able to hide the pearls in the house next door, she knew the road which led to it. Therefore she’s an accomplice,” said Guerchard, in a triumphant tone. “What? Do you think that, too?” cried the Duke. “Good Heavens! And it’s me! ... It’s my senselessness! ... It’s my fault that you’ve got your proof!” He spoke in a tone of acute distress. “It was your duty to give it me,” said Guerchard sternly; and he began to mount the steps. “Shall I come with you? I know where the handkerchief is,” said the Duke quickly. “No, thank you, your Grace,” said Guerchard. “I prefer to go alone.” “You’d better let me help you,” said the Duke. “No, your Grace,” said Guerchard firmly. “I must really insist,” said the Duke. “No—no—no,” said Guerchard vehemently, with stern decision. “It’s no use your insisting, your Grace; I prefer to go alone. I shall only be gone a minute or two.” “Just as you like,” said the Duke stiffly. The legs of Guerchard disappeared up the steps. The Duke stood listening with all his ears. Directly he heard the sound of Guerchard’s heels on the floor, when he dropped from the chimney-piece of the next room, he went swiftly to the door, opened it, and went out. Bonavent was sitting on the chair on which the young policeman had sat during the afternoon. Sonia, in her hat and cloak, was half-way down the stairs. The Duke put his head inside the drawing-room door, and said to the empty room: “Here is Mademoiselle Kritchnoff, M. Guerchard.” He held open the door, Sonia came down the stairs, and went through it. The Duke followed her into the drawing-room, and shut the door. “There’s not a moment to lose,” he said in a low voice. “Oh, what is it, your Grace?” said Sonia anxiously. “Guerchard has a warrant for your arrest.” “Then I’m lost!” cried Sonia, in a panic-stricken voice. “No, you’re not. You must go—at once,” said the Duke. “But how can I go? No one can get out of the house. M. Guerchard won’t let them,” cried Sonia, panic-stricken. “We can get over that,” said the Duke.