“She seems to prefer that I should enter a convent.” “Very well. What conclusion can we draw from that? Simply, that the Fondege family don’t particularly care about keeping you with them, or marrying you to their son. If they don’t desire this, it is because they are perfectly sure that the missing money was not taken by you. Now, let me ask, how can they be so certain? Simply because they know where the missing millions are--and if they know----” “Ah! monsieur, it is because they’ve stolen them!” The magistrate was silent. He had turned the bezel of his ring inside, a sure sign of stormy weather, so his clerk would have said--and though he had his features under excellent control he could not entirely conceal some signs of a severe mental conflict he was undergoing. “Well, yes, my child,” he said, at last. “Yes, it is my conviction that the Fondeges possess the millions you saw in the count’s escritoire, and which we have been unable to find. How they obtained possession of the money I can’t conceive--but they have it, or else logic is no longer logic.” He paused again for a moment, and then he resumed, more slowly: “In acquainting you with my opinion on this subject, I have given you, a young girl, almost a child, a proof of esteem and confidence which, it seems to me, few men are worthy of; for I may be deceived, and a magistrate ought not to accuse a person unless he is absolutely certain of his guilt. So you must forget what I have just told you, Mademoiselle Marguerite.” She looked at him with an air of utter astonishment. “You advise me to forget,” she murmured, “you wish me to forget.” “Yes; you must conceal these suspicions in the deepest recesses of your heart, until the time comes when you have sufficient proof to convict the culprits. It is true that it will be a difficult task to collect such proofs; but it is not impossible, with the aid of time, which divulges so many crimes. And you may count upon me; I will give you the benefit of all my influence and experience. It shall never be said that I allowed a defenceless girl to be crushed while I saw any chance of saving her.” Tears came to Mademoiselle Marguerite’s eyes. So the world was not composed entirely of scoundrels! “Ah! how kind you are, monsieur,” she said; “how kind you are!” “To be sure!” he interrupted, in a benevolent tone. “But, my child, you must help yourself. Remember this: if the Fondeges suspect our suspicions, all is lost. Repeat this to yourself at every moment in the day--and be discreet, impenetrable; for people with unclean consciences and hands are always distrustful of others.” There was no necessity to say anything more on this point; and so, with a sudden change of tone he asked: “Have you any plan?”