“Anyone in the house?” he asked.

“No one.  Natacha has not returned, and ...”

“Your step-daughter is coming in now.  Ask her where she has been, if she has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return this evening, in case she answers that she has seen them.”

“Very well, little domovoi doukh.  The orderlies left without my seeing when they went.”

“Ah,” interrupted Rouletabille, “before she arrives, give me all her hat-pins.”

“What!”

“I say, all her hat-pins.  Quickly!”

Matrena ran to Natacha’s chamber and returned with three enormous hat-pins with beautifully-cut stones in them.

“These are all?”

“They are all I have found.  I know she has two others.  She has one on her head, or two, perhaps; I can’t find them.”

“Take these back where you found them,” said the reporter, after glancing at them.

Matrena returned immediately, not understanding what he was doing.

“And now, your hat-pins.  Yes, your hat-pins.”

“Oh, I have only two, and here they are,” said she, drawing them from the toque she had been wearing and had thrown on the sofa when she re-entered the house.

Rouletabille gave hers the same inspection.

“Thanks.  Here is your step-daughter.”

Natacha entered, flushed and smiling.

“Ah, well,” said she, quite breathless, “you may boast that I had to search for you.  I made the entire round, clear past the Barque.  Has the promenade done papa good?”

“Yes, he is asleep,” replied Matrena.  “Have you met Boris and Michael?”

She appeared to hesitate a second, then replied: 

“Yes, for an instant.”

“Did they say whether they would return this evening?”

“No,” she replied, slightly troubled.  “Why all these questions?”

She flushed still more.

“Because I thought it strange,” parried Matrena, “that they went away as they did, without saying goodby, without a word, without inquiring if the general needed them.  There is something stranger yet.  Did you see Kaltsof with them, the grand-marshal of the court?”

“No.”

“Kaltsof came for a moment, entered the garden and went away again without seeing us, without saying even a word to the general.”

“Ah,” said Natacha.

With apparent indifference, she raised her arms and drew out her hat-pins.  Rouletabille watched the pin without a word.  The young girl hardly seemed aware of their presence.  Entirely absorbed in strange thoughts, she replaced the pin in her hat and went to hang it in the veranda, which served also as vestibule.  Rouletabille never quitted her eyes.  Matrena watched the reporter with a stupid glance.  Natacha crossed the drawing-room and entered her chamber by passing through her little sitting-room, through which all entrance to her chamber