"No indeed, I shall tell him nothing. But I want to do what I can for him as I said. I suppose you are engaged to be married?" "Yes," answered the girl; "but if he knew of this he never, never would marry me." "If he did not," said Mrs. Brenton, "he would not be worthy of you. But he shall know nothing about it. You will promise to come here and see me with him, will you not?" "Yes, madam," said the girl. "Then good-bye, until I see you again." Mrs. Brenton sat for a long time thinking over this confession. It took her some time to recover her usual self-possession, because for a moment she had thought the girl was going to confess that she committed murder. In comparison with that awful crime, the theft seemed so trivial that Mrs. Brenton almost smiled when she thought of the girl's distress. * * * * * "Well," said John Speed to Mr. Brenton, "if that doesn't beat the Old Harry. Now I, for one, am very glad of it, if we come to the real truth of the matter." "I am glad also," said Brenton, "that the girl is not guilty, although I must say things looked decidedly against her." "I will tell you why I am glad," said Speed. "I am glad because it will take some of the superfluous conceit out of that French detective Lecocq. He was so awfully sure of himself. He couldn't possibly be mistaken. Now, think of the mistakes that man must have made while he was on earth, and had the power which was given into his hands in Paris. After all, Stratton is on the right track, and he will yet land your friend Roland in prison. Let us go and find Lecocq. This is too good to keep." "My dear sir," said Brenton, "you seem to be more elated because of your friend Stratton than for any other reason. Don't you want the matter ferreted out at all?" "Why, certainly I do; but I don't want it ferreted out by bringing an innocent person into trouble." "And may not Stephen Roland be an innocent person?" "Oh, I suppose so; but I do not think he is." "Why do you not think so?" "Well, if you want the real reason, simply because George Stratton thinks he isn't. I pin my faith to Stratton." "I think you overrate your friend Stratton." "Overrate him, sir? That is impossible. I love him so well that I hope he will solve this mystery himself, unaided and alone, and that in going back to Chicago he will be smashed to pieces in a railway accident, so that we can have him here to congratulate him." CHAPTER XV. "I suppose," said Roland, "you thought for a moment I was trying to commit suicide. I think, Mr. Stratton, you will have a better opinion of me by-and-by. I shouldn't be at all surprised if you imagined I induced you to come in here to get you into a trap." "You are perfectly correct," said Stratton; "and I may say, although that was my belief, I was not in the least afraid of you, for I had you covered all the time."