"It's in that kit-bag at your feet, on the top of the change of clothes in it."
Guerchard snatched up the kit-bag, opened it, and took out the coronet.
"I'm afraid I haven't the case," said Lupin, in a tone of regret. "If you remember, I left it at Gournay-Martin's—in your charge."
Guerchard examined the coronet carefully. He looked at the stones in it; he weighed it in his right hand, and he weighed it in his left.
"Are you sure it's the real one?" said Lupin, in a tone of acute but affected anxiety. "Do not—oh, do not let us have any more of these painful mistakes about it. They are so wearing."
"Yes—yes—this is the real one," said Guerchard, with another deep sigh of relief.
"Well, have you done bleeding me?" said Lupin contemptuously.
"Your arms," said Guerchard quickly.
"They weren't in the bond," said Lupin. "But here you are." And he threw his revolver on the table.
Guerchard picked it up and put it into his pocket. He looked at Lupin as if he could not believe his eyes, gloating over him. Then he said in a deep, triumphant tone:
"And now for the handcuffs!"
