"A burglar, of course," said the Count hearing of the cruel weapon. "How _could_ any one attack the charming lady! And the marvelous jewels she wore! They were, of course, stolen?" "No; that's the strange part. They were not." "Ah, how splendid!" and his absorbed air of satisfaction gave Pauline a thrill of disgust at his cold-bloodedness. "And now they are all yours? Those magnificent gems?" "The property, most of it, is divided between my cousin and myself." "Your cousin? Mr. Haviland?" "No; he is but a distant connection. I mean my first cousin, Mr. Loria, now in Egypt." "Ah, yes, I have heard Miss Carrington refer to him. He will come home?" "I do not know. We have cabled of course. Count Charlier, do you remember hearing my aunt say, last evening, that she expected something to happen to her?" "I remember, Miss Stuart." "Have you any idea what she meant?" "I? But how could I know?" "Answer my question, please." The Count's eyes fell, and he shifted his feet about uneasily. At last he said: "It is not pleasant to say such things, but since you ask, I may be permitted to assume that the late Miss Carrington had a regard for my humble self." "And she expected, she--hoped that her regard might be returned?" "It may be so." "And that last night you might tell her so?" "You honor me." "Did you tell her so?" "I did not, Miss Stuart. What might have happened had she lived I cannot say, but I did not, last evening, say any word to Miss Carrington of my aspiration to her hand." "Did you say anything that could have been taken as a hint that some time, say, in the near future, you might express such an aspiration?" "I may have done so." "Thank you, Count Charlier. I had perhaps no right to ask, but you have answered my rather impertinent questions straightforwardly, and I thank you." Pauline rose, as if to end the interview. In the doorway appeared Anita. "Pauline," she said, "I wish you would come back and listen to Mrs. Frothingham's story. It seems to me of decided importance." "You have something to tell me?" asked Pauline, returning to the library and looking at the unwelcome neighbor with patient tolerance. "Yes, Miss Stuart. Now, it may be nothing,--nothing, I mean, of consequence, that is, you may not think so, but I----" "Suppose you let me hear it and judge for myself." "Yes. Well, it's only this. I was wakeful last night, or rather early this morning, and looking from my bedroom window, which faces this house, I saw a man climb out of a window on the first floor and skulk away among the shrubbery." "At what time was this?" and Pauline looked interested at last. "About four o'clock. He was to all appearances a burglar----" "How could you tell? Was it not dark at that hour in the morning?" "No; the moon is past full, you know, and it shone brightly in the western sky." "Enough for you to discern the man clearly?"