Puymirol now began to understand the countess's advances, and his self-possession returned to him, in a measure. It was evident that she wished to bind him to her at any cost. "You may be right," he said, after a moment's silence. "Blanche is capable of anything; besides, she has good reason to feel anxious, for the authorities believe that Dargental died by violence, and she has been closely questioned, and may be examined again." "Can she be accused of murdering him?" "Not exactly, as she is still at large. But the police are looking for the murderer; and rumour attributes the crime to one of our friend's former sweethearts, who hired some one to kill him, so as to regain possession of certain letters." "What did I tell you a moment ago? This creature undoubtedly wrote him something that revealed her in her true character. I am sure of it; for Pierre told me one day that he had something in his possession which would suffice to send her to the Assizes. I am perfectly willing to repeat that to the magistrate." "That would be very imprudent; for Mademoiselle Pornic, in self-defence, might declare that you also had written to Pierre, and that you were even more interested than she was in regaining possession of your correspondence. At the beginning of our conversation, you yourself admitted that there were some danger in this." "And I asked you to try and frighten Mademoiselle Pornic out of the notion of slandering me. You politely refused. I shall, perhaps, be obliged to apply to a bolder person. Where does this woman live?" "At No. 34, Avenue de Messine. But it would be useless for you to apply to her. Not a single letter was found at Dargental's. Besides, his pocket-book had been stolen from him." "A Russia-leather pocket-book, with his initial and a marquis's coronet upon it!" exclaimed the countess, greatly agitated. "I gave it to him." "Well, the question is to ascertain into whose hands it has fallen," remarked Puymirol. "If it has come into Blanche Pornic's possession, she will have destroyed her own letters, and have preserved yours." "I can compel her to return them to me." "I doubt it. If I thought it possible, I should not hesitate to make the attempt." "My hand and fortune shall be the reward of the man who will restore my letters to me," said the countess, boldly. It was impossible to declare more plainly that she was at the mercy of the person who had possession of her missives to Dargental, and Puymirol, still under the charm of her wonderful beauty, felt anxious to win the promised reward. "I will do all in my power to serve you," he said, rising, after he had pressed a kiss upon her soft white hand. "Then begin by taking the five hundred louis you need to pay your gambling debts," was the quick reply. "Anything but that," rejoined Puymirol, firmly. "Will you permit me to call again to-morrow?" "At any hour you like. I shall always be at home to you."