“The letters carved on the inside of the casket, on the lid--that’s the whole point of the business.” “Those half rubbed-out letters! I swear to you, good gentleman, I never even dreamed of trying to make them out.” “That’s all right, and I’m quite willing to believe it,” said Leonard. “But then we come again to the original point: what has become of the casket?” “I’ve told you. It was taken from me--the evening before you came to Lillebonne with the lady, the lady who wore a thick veil.” “It was taken from you, was it? Who by?” “By a person of my acquaintance.” “A person who was looking for it?” said Leonard sharply. “No. That person saw it on the top of a cupboard in my sitting-room and fancied it as a curio,” said the widow. “What was that person’s name--for the hundredth time--what was that person’s name? That’s what I want to know,” stormed Leonard. “I can’t tell you that. It was someone who has been very kind to me, and to tell would only do harm--great harm. I will not tell.” “But, you old fool, that person would be the first to tell you to speak!” “Perhaps--perhaps. But how am I to know that? I cannot write.... We see one another from time to time.... Why, we were to meet next Tuesday, at two o’clock.” “Where?” “It’s impossible.... I’d no right----” “What? Have we got to begin all over again?” growled Leonard impatiently. The widow cried in a voice of terror: “No, no! good gentleman! I beg you!” The words ended in a cry of pain. “Oh, the brute!... What is he doing to me?... Oh! my poor hand!” “Speak, then, curse you!” “Yes, yes.... I will!... I will!” But she broke off short; her voice gave out. She was at the end of her strength. Leonard, however, went on pressing her and Ralph caught some words painfully uttered: “Yes ... we’re to meet on Tuesday ... at the old lighthouse.... But, no!... I have no right!... I would rather die!... You can do what you like!... I’d rather die!” She was silent. Leonard growled: “What’s the matter with the pig-headed old beast now? She’s not dead I hope. Oh, you old donkey, you shall speak! I’ll give you ten minutes and then I’ll make an end of it.” A door was opened and then shut. Doubtless he was going to inform Josephine of the admissions he had so far obtained and to get instructions from her as to the course the rest of the questioning was to take. Ralph pulled his head out of the chimney and saw him go to her and stand over her. He talked to her with excited gestures; she listened to him. “The brutes!” Ralph execrated both of them, the one no less than the other. The groans of Madam Rousselin had moved him profoundly and he was trembling with rage and burning to act. Nothing in the world should prevent him from rescuing this woman.