And then, when the manager of the hotel had the ground dug up, where she and the children had discovered those pieces of jewelry, nothing had been found. And Mr. Keating, alias the Count, had gone, called to Chicago, he claimed, the very night before they dug up around the rock,—the very night, too, that the cabin had been burned. No, Philip had not been arrested, for certainly the evidence was not strong enough to warrant such action. And then the detective had disappeared, although Nathalie had a feeling at times that he was hanging around somewhere near the place, in disguise, perhaps, watching Philip. And the people who had been so nice to Philip, now acted very queerly whenever they saw him, and Philip, the poor fellow, had said nothing, although Nathalie was afraid that he suspected that something was wrong. Her mother had persuaded him to come down to Seven Pillars after the burning of the cabin, and although he had accepted their kind hospitality for the time being, he chafed under the favors showered upon him, and showed that he was inwardly suffering to have to be placed in such a position, for Janet said he resented charity. Yes, and ten days had passed, and Nathalie had not heard one word from the detective. O dear! the world was a queer place to live in, anyway. Just after luncheon, as Nathalie and her mother sat knitting on the veranda, a loud “Honk! Honk!” announced the arrival of Nita, who, with her cheeks red with excitement, burst upon the group like a young whirlwind. “Oh, Blue Robin,” she cried, as she caught sight of Nathalie, “I have the most wonderful news for you.” And then, without waiting to be questioned by her friend, who had risen to her feet in nervous expectancy, she added excitedly, “Philip has been cleared!” “Oh, Nita, how do you know?” cried Nathalie, her face turning white, as she nervously clutched at her chair. “The news came this morning from the detective, and the manager told mother. He said Mr. Grenoble got his clew from Sheila. You just come right here, little girl,” broke off Nita abruptly, as she beckoned for Sheila to come to her, “so I can kiss you for a blessed dear.” She seized the somewhat astonished child and began to hug her with excited exuberance. “But who is the thief?” exclaimed Nathalie breathlessly. “Oh, do tell us!”