In point of fact, Lecoq was not frightened, but he was intensely disappointed to find that Madame d’Arlange could not possibly be one of the women who had escaped from the Widow Chupin’s hovel on the night of the murder.  There was nothing about her appearance that corresponded in the least degree with the descriptions given by Papillon.

Remembering the small footprints left in the snow by the two fugitives, the young detective glanced, moreover, at the marchioness’s feet, just perceivable beneath her skirt, and his disappointment reached its climax when he found that they were truly colossal in size.

“Well, are you dumb?” inquired the old lady, raising her voice.

Without making a direct reply, Lecoq produced the precious earring, and, placing it upon the table beside the marchioness, remarked:  “I bring you this jewel, madame, which I have found, and which, I am told, belongs to you.”

Madame d’Arlange laid down her knitting and proceeded to examine the earring.  “It is true,” she said, after a moment, “that this ornament formerly belonged to me.  It was a fancy I had, about four years ago, and it cost me dear—­at least twenty thousand francs.  Ah!  Doisty, the man who sold me those diamonds, must make a handsome income.  But I had a granddaughter to educate and pressing need of money compelled me to sell them.”

“To whom?” asked Lecoq, eagerly.

“Eh?” exclaimed the old lady, evidently shocked at his audacity, “you are very inquisitive upon my word!”

“Excuse me, madame, but I am anxious to find the owner of this valuable ornament.”

Madame d’Arlange regarded her visitor with an air of mingled curiosity and surprise.  “Such honesty!” said she.  “Oh, oh!  And of course you don’t hope for a sou by way of reward—­”

“Madame!”

“Good, good!  There is not the least need for you to turn as red as a poppy, young man.  I sold these diamonds to a great Austrian lady—­the Baroness de Watchau.”

“And where does this lady reside?”

“At the Pere la Chaise, probably, since she died about a year ago.  Ah! these women of the present day—­an extra waltz, or the merest draft, and it’s all over with them!  In my time, after each gallop, we girls used to swallow a tumbler of sweetened wine, and sit down between two open doors.  And we did very well, as you see.”

“But, madame,” insisted Lecoq, “the Baroness de Watchau must have left some one behind her—­a husband, or children—­”

“No one but a brother, who holds a court position at Vienna:  and who could not leave even to attend the funeral.  He sent orders that all his sister’s personal property should be sold—­not even excepting her wardrobe—­and the money sent to him.”

Lecoq could not repress an exclamation of disappointment.  “How unfortunate!” he murmured.

“Why?” asked the old lady.  “Under these circumstances, the diamond will probably remain in your hands, and I am rejoiced that it should be so.  It will be a fitting reward for your honesty.”