“Yes, that is clear.  And needless to say, I believe your statement, Mademoiselle.  You are brave and good to have come forward as you have, without being called upon.  There are still some formalities to be gone through before Mr. Dundas can be released; but English influence is at work in high quarters, and after what you have told me, I think he will not much longer be under restraint.  Besides, I may as well inform you, dear lady, that not ten minutes before you arrived this morning I received satisfactory news of the arrest of two Englishmen at Frankfort, who seem to have been concerned in this business in the Rue de la Fille Sauvage.  They certainly travelled with the murdered man; and a friend of his called Gestre, just back from Marseilles, has sworn that these persons were formerly partners of Janson, the deceased.  If Janson stole the necklace from Monsieur du Laurier, with this pair as accomplices, and then tried to cheat them, a motive for the crime is evident.  And we are getting at Janson’s record, which seems to be a bad one—­a notorious one throughout Europe, if he proves to be the man we think.  I hope, really, that in a very few days Mr. Dundas may be able to thank you in person for what you’ve done for him, and—­to tell you what has become of those letters.”

“What good will their destruction do me, though, if you are not merciful?”

“I intend to be, for I can combine mercy with justice.  Dear Mademoiselle, Monsieur du Laurier need never know the circumstances you have told to me, or that the Englishman’s alibi has been proved by you.  The arrest of these two men in Frankfort will, I feel sure, help the police to keep your secret as you would keep it yourself.  Now, will that assurance make it easier for you to put your whole soul into your part to-night?”

“If you will accept that box,” I said, letting him kiss my hand, and feeling inclined to kiss his.

Then I drove home, with my heart singing, for I felt almost sure that I had trumped Godensky’s last trick now.

When I reached home Miss Forrest was there.  She had brought the diamonds in the brocade bag.  Oddly enough, the ribbons which fastened it were torn out, as if there had been a struggle for the possession of the bag.  But Miss Forrest did not explain this, or even allude to it at all.

I thanked her for coming and for bringing the jewels.  “I have kept my promise,” I said.  “The man you love will be free in a few days.  Will you let me say that I think you are a very noble pair, and I hope you will be happy together.”

“I shall try to make up to him for—­my hateful suspicions and—­everything,” she said, like a repentant child.  “I love him so much!”

“And he you.  You almost broke his heart by throwing him over; I saw that.  But how gloriously you will mend it again!”

“Oh, I hope so!” she cried.  “And you—­have I really spoiled your life by forcing you to make that promise?  I pray that I haven’t.”