"I think not," I corrected. "You know that my tongue is tied—because you saved my life. That is why you trust me." He smiled grimly. "But why have you brought me here?" I asked, after a pause. "For the reason I have named—to show how implicitly I trust you." It was only then that a thought flashed in upon me. "You say," I exclaimed sharply, "that jewellery stolen in Great Britain sometimes finds its way here?" "Most of the English stuff is got rid of in this room." "And are you—do your—your 'clients' tell you where the 'stuff' comes from?" "Always," the gaunt man answered. "That is a condition of my taking it off their hands. You will understand that large rewards are sometimes offered for the return of property intact and uninjured." I paused to collect my thoughts before speaking again, anxious not to make a false step. "Can you recollect," I said at last, "if jewellery taken from a country house in Berkshire, England—the house is called Holt Manor—just after Christmas, ever found its way here?" The gaunt man reflected for a moment. Then, without speaking, he walked across the room, unlocked the door of a little safe which was let into the wall, took from the safe a fat, leather-bound ledger, opened it, and ran his finger down a page. "Yes," he said in his deep voice. "The property was valued at about twelve or fourteen thousand pounds. I have here a list of the articles." Turning, he peered oddly at me out of his strange eyes. "May I see the list?" I asked quickly. "Have you a reason for wanting to see it?" "Yes. Some of the jewellery taken had been generations in the family. If it is intact still, I may be able to get a fancy price offered for it, or for some of it." "_Bien_" he said. "Much of the stuff has been melted down, but not all." I read carefully down the list, which, arranged neatly and systematically, showed at once what had been melted down, and how it had been disposed of, while a complete list was given of articles kept intact. Among the latter I recognized several bits of jewellery which Dulcie had greatly valued, and quickly I arranged with the gaunt man to buy them from him then and there. After that the three of us sat talking for a considerable time, and before the time arrived for me to leave I knew beyond doubt that the jewellery I had caught sight of when Connie Stapleton's bag had burst open in the train had been the jewellery, or some of it, stolen on board the boat. "Some day we may meet again," I said as I parted from Francois and his companion, in the little greengrocer's shop. "Some day we shall," the cadaverous man answered in a strange voice. He extended his hand, and I shook it. A minute later I was in a taxi, hurrying through the streets of Lyons towards the Perrache station.