Some vague foreshadowing of this had haunted her from time to time, long before she guessed that Mr. Candover was concerned in the death and disappearance of the White Countess. Mademoiselle Laure and the doctor--the one of them secretly inimical, the other probably suspicious--these were the witnesses who would both aver that she had confessed to seeing the White Countess in the rooms, and who would also be able to bear witness that her excitement and nervous distress were great, and her bearing inconsistent with the perfect innocence she professed in the matter. The men waited respectfully enough for her to speak. At last she said:-- “I don’t understand. Who is it that accuses me?” “We can’t answer that, ma’am,” said the man. “We’ve got nothing to do but just execute orders. And to say that you’d better not say anything yet, as what you say may be used in evidence against you.” Audrey shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said with spirit. “This is all nonsense; there is no evidence, and there can be no evidence against me. For I can tell who it was that was last with the woman alive.” Both men, she thought, looked interested, though they said nothing. She went on:-- “It was a man whom she called Eugène. But the name by which he is known here is not Eugène Reynolds, but Reginald Candover.” “Well, ma’am, you needn’t tell us all this,” said the man who had stated that he had the warrant. “It won’t do you any good now; but if you tell it all to your solicitor at the trial, or rather before then--he’ll find out what he can for you, no doubt.” “In the meantime, ma’am, if you’ll come along with us,” said the other man, who now spoke for the first time, “we’ve got to take you before a magistrate. It will only be the affair of a moment, and then you can send for your solicitor to see and advise you.” “We’ve got a cab waiting, ma’am,” said the policeman. But Audrey shook her head. “I won’t go away with you,” she said firmly, “until I’ve had an opportunity of consulting some one.” The men looked at each other. “Can’t be done, ma’am, at least not yet. You must go before the magistrate first,” said the man with the warrant. “Afterwards, every facility will be given you.” The other man, more impatient, made a movement as if to hurry her towards the door. But she hung back, looking so determined, with her teeth tightly clenched and her breast heaving, and her eyes very bright, that they hesitated a little as to the best means of proceeding. “I won’t go. I simply refuse to go,” she said firmly, “until I’ve had an opportunity of--of conferring with--with my friends.”