“And of what use will she be to you?”

“Very little, I fear.  And yet the allowance looks as if she had at one time done something out of the way for her employers.  Can it be that she has any knowledge of the birth of this natural child?”

“I don’t think much of your idea,” returned Tantaine carelessly.

“Since then,” continued Perpignan, “the Duke has never put in an appearance in my office.”

“But how about Catenac?”

“I have seen him three times.”

“Has he told you nothing more?  Do you not even know in which hospital the child was placed?”

“No; and on my last visit I plainly told him that I was getting sick of all this mystery; and he said that he himself was tired, and was sorry that he had ever meddled in the affair.”

Tantaine was not surprised at hearing this, and accounted for Catenac’s change of front by the threats of Mascarin.

“Well, what do you draw from this?” asked he.

“That Catenac has no more information than I have.  The Duke most likely proposes to drop the affair; but, were I in his place, I should be afraid to find the boy, however much I might at one time have desired to do so.  He may be in prison—­the most likely thing for a lad who, at twelve years of age, ran away from a place where he was well treated.  I have, however, planned a mode of operation, for, with patience, money, and skill, much might be done.”

“I agree with you.”

“Then let me tell you.  I have drawn an imaginary circle round Paris.  I said to myself, ’I will visit every house and inn in the villages round within this radius; I will enter every isolated dwelling, and will say to the inhabitants, “Do any of you remember at any time sheltering and feeding a child, dressed in such and such a manner?"’ giving at the same time a description of him.  I am sure that I should find some one who would answer in the affirmative.  Then I should gain a clue which I would follow up to the end.”

This plan appeared so ingenious to Tantaine, that he involuntarily exclaimed,—­

“Good! excellent!”

Perpignan hardly knew whether Tantaine was praising or blaming him.  His manner might have meant either.

“You are very fast,” returned he dismally.  “Perhaps presently you will be good enough to allow that I am not an absolute fool.  Do you really think that I am an idiot?  At any rate, I sometimes hit upon a judicious combination.  For example, with regard to this boy, I have a notion which, if properly worked might lead to something.”

“Might I ask what it is?”

“I speak confidentially.  If it is impossible to lay our hands upon the real boy, why should we not substitute another?”

At this suggestion, Tantaine started violently.

“It would be most dangerous, most hazardous,” gasped he.

“You are afraid, then?” said Perpignan, delighted at the effect his proposal had made.