“Yes, it is a book she has been reading lately.” “Oh! the book in itself signifies nothing,” said Baudoin. “It had fallen down by the side of the bed nearest the wall. In a hurry of departure she did not see it, and it was left there. But there was something between these leaves.” Baudoin took between his fingers a piece of paper, and showed it to his masters. “This envelope, torn in two, and folded to serve as a book-mark. To whom does it belong, if not to the one who has been making use of it? Now on the folded part, there is a line of writing and an address.” “An address?” “Look!” He handed the paper to Marcel, and on the small band, concealed by the folding, the young man read aloud the name: “Madame la Baronne Grodsko.” The bottom of the envelope, on which was doubtless written the street, number and town, had disappeared. On the top, however, a large stamp contained the postmark: “Wien, April 18.” The rest was effaced. “Baroness Grodsko,” repeated Marcel. “But her name was Anetta Vignola.” “Ah!” said Uncle Graff; “these women change their names as easily as their dresses. She has only kept this envelope from the most incredible and imprudent carelessness. And how is it this letter, which came from Vienna a fortnight ago, is now here? It must have been forwarded under another envelope to the name and address she assumed here!” Baudoin then remarked— “Perhaps I may be permitted to state that the woman who called on my master on the night of the crime was addressed by him as Baronne—” Marcel turned pale. “True,” he murmured, in a low tone. “But what relation is there between Anetta Vignola and the Baroness Grodsko?” “That is what we must discover, for it is the clue which may guide us through the darkness in which we are now groping. Courage, my child; if this woman is the same who has committed such infamous actions—” “Ah! Uncle Graff, in that case I should feel no pity whatever for her.” The uncle shook his nephew’s hand, in sympathetic approval. “Now, there is nothing more for us to do here. The house has delivered up to us part of its secret. The rest we must seek elsewhere.” The three men went out into the garden, after carefully closing the doors, and slowly returned to Ars. CHAPTER II LICHTENBACH was sitting in his study, listening to young Vernot, his broker, who was speaking with the utmost volubility. “Baradier and Graff will not long be able to maintain their position on the Explosives now. It has already been remarked at the Bourse that they have not reduced their stock. The coming liquidation will be a decisive one; or else they will remain firm; then what a bankruptcy it will be! Or they may sell everything. What a fall that will mean!” A faint smile came over the banker’s lips. “I should like to see that!”