"I will assist you, madame," said the officer. "I am M. Brissard, of Paris, detective agent." Without showing the least perturbation, Mine. Morant held out her hand. "Ah, yes," she replied. "It is so long since I have been in Paris; I had forgotten. How do you do?" M. Brissard assured the lady he was enjoying the best of health, and in turn asked after madame's husband. "Ah, poor Morant!" was the answer. "He has been dead some years; I have married again." Brissard sympathized with her. He was extremely sorry to trouble her, he said, but a certain event in the life of the late M. Morant was being looked into by the police, and he, Brissard, was afraid that madame would have to accompany him--simply to answer a few questions. The woman kept remarkably cool, only the pallor of her face giving evidence of the emotion she was trying so hard to control. "Certainly I will go," was her reply. "Only you must excuse me for a moment." M. Brissard gently pointed out that this was impossible, a cab was called, and Mme. Morant was driven to police head-quarters. Now, American police methods may be somewhat strenuous, but in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they are successful. American officers brook no nonsense, treating criminals as they should be treated, and it must be admitted they seldom make mistakes. Madame was at once searched by a female attendant, and then she was asked a few questions by a detective inspector. The "strenuous method" bore good results, for the Frenchwoman admitted that Morant was very much alive. When it came to divulging his whereabouts, however, she remained adamant. The trunks were now brought up from the docks and searched, but absolutely nothing was found in any way bearing on the missing jewels. Madame herself wore three very fine rings and a bar brooch containing two large diamonds, but all these were in modern settings, and, if they were part of the Martigny jewels, had been reset. But, careful as she and her husband had evidently been, they had not been quite careful enough, for madame was wearing a small watch encrusted with pearls, on the inside of which was inscribed, "12 Avril, 1877. C. J. de M."