“Ducaine,” he said, “a copy of our proposed camp at Winchester, and the fortifications on Bedler’s Hill, has reached Paris.”

“Your Grace,” I answered, “it was I who pointed out to you that our papers dealing with those matters had been tampered with.  I am waiting now to be cross-questioned by Lord Cheisford.  I have done all that is humanly possible.  It goes without saying that my resignation is yours whenever you choose to ask for it.”

The Duke sat down and looked at me thoughtfully.

“Ducaine,” he said, “I believe in you.”

I drew a little breath of relief.  The Duke was a hard man and a man of few words.  I felt that in making that speech he had departed a great deal from his usual course of action, and I knew that he meant it.

“I am very much obliged to your Grace,” I answered.

“I think,” he continued, “that Lord Cheisford and in fact all the others are inclined to accept you on my estimate.  We all of us feel that we are the victims of some unique and very marvellous piece of roguery on the part of some one or other.  I believe myself that we are on the eve of a discovery.”

“Thank Heaven!” I murmured.

“We shall only succeed in unravelling this mystery,” the Duke continued deliberately, “by very cautious and delicate manoeuvring.  I have an idea which I propose to carry out.  But its success depends largely upon you.”

“Upon me?” I repeated, amazed.

“Exactly!  Upon your common sense and judgment.”  The Duke paused to listen for a moment.  Then he continued, speaking very slowly, and leaning over towards me—­

“Lord Chelsford proposes for his own satisfaction to cross-examine you.  It occurs to me that you will probably tell him of your fancied disturbance of those papers in the safe, and of your little adventure with the Prince of Malors.”  I looked at him in surprise.  “Have they not all been told of this?” I asked.  “No.”

There was a moment’s dead silence.  I was a little staggered.  The Duke remained imperturbable.

“They have not been told,” he repeated.  “No one has been told.  The matter was one for my discretion, and I exercised it.”

There seemed to be no remark which I could make, so I kept silence.

“We have discussed this matter before,” the Duke said, “and my firm conviction is that you were mistaken.  That safe could only have been opened by yourself, Ray, or myself.  I think I am justified in saying that neither of us did open it.”

“Nevertheless that safe was opened,” I objected.  “Those were the very papers, copies of which have found their way to Paris.”

“Exactly,” the Duke answered.  “Only you must remember that every member of the Board was sufficiently acquainted with their contents to have sent those particulars to Paris, without opening the safe for a further investigation of them.  Any statement of your suspicion would only result in attention being diverted from the proper quarters to members of my household.  I believe that even if you are right, even if those papers were disturbed, it was done simply to throw dust in your eyes.  Do you follow me?”