"My mother is neither in the sitting room nor in her bedroom! Where is she?" Now I saw no need to tell Marie at that time what had become of Mme. Delhasse. The matter, however, was not left in my hands; no, nor in those of Gustave de Berensac, who called out hastily to the driver, "Ready! Go on, go on!" The duchess called "Wait!" and then she turned to Marie Delhasse and said in calm cold tones: "You ask where your mother is. Well, then, where is the necklace?" Marie drew back as though she had been struck; yet her grip did not leave my arm, but tightened on it. "The necklace?" she gasped. And the duchess, using the most scornful words she knew and giving a short little laugh, said. "Your mother has levanted with the necklace. Of course you didn't know!" Thus, if Marie Delhasse had been stern to the Duke of Saint-Maclou when he lay dying, his wife avenged him to the full and more. For at the words, at the sight of the duchess' disdainful face and of my troubled look, Marie uttered a cry and reeled and sank half-fainting in my arms. "Oh, drive on!" said the Duchess of Saint-Maclou in a wearied tone. And away they drove, leaving us two alone. Nor did Marie speak again, unless it were in distressed incoherent protests, till, an hour later, I delivered her into the charge of the Mother Superior at the convent by the side of the bay. And the old lady bade me wait till she saw Marie comfortably bestowed, and then she returned to me and we walked side by side for a while in the little burying-ground, she listening to an outline of my story. Perhaps I, in a lover's zeal, spoke harshly of the duchess; for the old lady put her hand upon my arm and said to me: "It was not for losing the diamonds that her heart was sore--poor silly child!" And, inasmuch as I doubted whether my venerable friend thought that it was for the loss of her husband either, I held my peace. CHAPTER XXII. From Shadow to Sunshine. There remains yet one strange and terrible episode of which I must tell, though indeed, I thank God, I was in no way a witness of it. A week after the events which I have set down, while Marie still lay prostrate at the convent, and I abode at my old hotel in Avranches, assisting to the best of my power in the inquiry being held by the local magistrate, an officer of police arrived from Havre; and when the magistrate had heard his story, he summoned me from the ante-room where I was waiting, and bade me also listen to the story. And this it was: