Harry Wethermill, however, was not so easily satisfied.

"Surely, monsieur, it would be well to know whither she is going,"

he said, "and to make sure that when she has gone there she will

stay there--until we want her again?"

Hanaud looked at the young man pityingly.

"I can understand, monsieur, that you hold strong views about

Helene Vauquier. You are human, like the rest of us. And what she

has said to us just now would not make you more friendly. But--

but--" and he preferred to shrug his shoulders rather than to

finish in words his sentence. "However," he said, "we shall take

care to know where Helene Vauquier is staying. Indeed, if she is

at all implicated in this affair we shall learn more if we leave

her free than if we keep her under lock and key. You see that if

we leave her quite free, but watch her very, very carefully, so as

to awaken no suspicion, she may be emboldened to do something

rash--or the others may."

Mr. Ricardo approved of Hanaud's reasoning.

"That is quite true," he said. "She might write a letter."

"Yes, or receive one," added Hanaud, "which would be still more

satisfactory for us--supposing, of course, that she has anything

to do with this affair"; and again he shrugged his shoulders. He

turned towards the Commissaire.

"You have a discreet officer whom you can trust?" he asked.

"Certainly. A dozen."

"I want only one."

"And here he is," said the Commissaire.

They were descending the stairs. On the landing of the first floor

Durette, the man who had discovered where the cord was bought, was

still waiting. Hanaud took Durette by the sleeve in the familiar

way which he so commonly used and led him to the top of the

stairs, where the two men stood for a few moments apart. It was

plain that Hanaud was giving, Durette receiving, definite

instructions. Durette descended the stairs; Hanaud came back to

the others.

"I have told him to fetch a cab," he said, "and convey Helene

Vauquier to her friends." Then he looked at Ricardo, and from

Ricardo to the Commissaire, while he rubbed his hand backwards and

forwards across his shaven chin.

"I tell you," he said, "I find this sinister little drama very

interesting to me. The sordid, miserable struggle for mastery in

this household of Mme. Dauvray--eh? Yes, very interesting. Just as

much patience, just as much effort, just as much planning for this

small end as a general uses to defeat an army--and, at the last,

nothing gained. What else is politics? Yes, very interesting."

His eyes rested upon Wethermill's face for a moment, but they gave

the young man no hope. He took a key from his pocket "We need not keep this room locked," he said. "We know all that

there is to be known." And he inserted the key into the lock of

Celia's room and turned it.




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