of her guilt. But I hadn't the slightest proof of it," said Guerchard.
"What?" cried the Duke, in a horrified tone.
"No, you've just given me the proof; and since she was able to hide the pearls in the house next door, she knew the road which led to it. Therefore she's an accomplice," said Guerchard, in a triumphant tone.
"What? Do you think that, too?" cried the Duke. "Good Heavens! And it's me! . . . It's my senselessness! . . . It's my fault that you've got your proof!" He spoke in a tone of acute distress.
"It was your duty to give it me," said Guerchard sternly; and he began to mount the steps.
"Shall I come with you? I know where the handkerchief is," said the Duke quickly.
"No, thank you, your Grace," said Guerchard. "I prefer to go alone."
"You'd better let me help you," said the Duke.
"No, your Grace," said Guerchard firmly.
"I must really insist," said the Duke.
"No—no—no," said Guerchard vehemently, with stern decision. "It's no use your insisting, your Grace; I prefer to go alone. I shall only be gone a minute or two."
"Just as you like," said the Duke stiffly.
