"Thief or not, she is a grand beauty; and if her heart was not in that prayer she put up just now, she is a grand actress also. This is a beastly trade of ours, hunting down and trapping the unwary. Sometimes I feel no better than a sleuth-hound, and that girl's eyes went through and through me a while ago like a two-edged dirk." As he vented his views of his profession, one of the policemen lighted his pipe and puffed vigorously. Mrs. Foster came back, followed by her victim. "I find absolutely nothing secreted on the prisoner." "No papers of any description?" "None, sir." "Madam, your basket contains the missing jewelry and money, at least a portion of it, and I shall place it in the hands of the sheriff." "The money and jewels are not mine. They belong to my mother, to whom they were given by her father; and she needs the money at this moment--" "Let me advise you to say as little as possible for your own sake; because your words will be weighed against you." "I speak only the truth, and it will, it must, vindicate me. What papers are you searching for?" "General Darrington's will. It was stolen with the money. Here is yesterday's paper, with an account of the whole affair, telegraphed from X----. If you need to learn anything, you will understand when you read it." The sight of the capital letters in the Telegraphic Despatches, coupling her name with a heinous and revolting crime, seemed to stab her eyes with red-hot thrusts; and shivering from head to foot, she slowly realized the suspicious significance of the disappearance of the will, which was the sole obstacle that debarred her from her grandfather's wealth. Although sustained by an unfaltering trust in the omnipotence of innocence, she was tormented by a dread spectre that would not "down" at her bidding; how could she prove that the money and jewels had been given to her? Would the shock of the tidings of her arrest kill her mother? Was there any possible way by which she might be kept in ignorance of this foul disgrace?