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the room, cloaked and ready to start.

      “For once in a way you are ready first, papa,” she said. “Are you coming, Jacques?”

      “No; I think I’ll stay here, on the chance that Lupin is not bluffing,” said the Duke. “I don’t think, myself, that I’m going to be gladdened by the sight of him—in fact, I’m ready to bet against it. But you’re all so certain about it that I really must stay on the chance. And, after all, there’s no doubt that he’s a man of immense audacity and ready to take any risk.”

      “Well, at any rate, if he does come he won’t find the diadem,” said M. Gournay-Martin, in a tone of triumph. “I’m taking it with me—I’ve got it here.” And he held up his bag.

      “You are?” said the Duke.

      “Yes, I am,” said M. Gournay-Martin firmly.

      “Do you think it’s wise?” said the Duke.

      “Why not?” said M. Gournay-Martin.

      “If Lupin’s really made up his mind to collar that coronet, and if you’re so sure that, in spite of all these safeguards, he’s going to make the attempt, it seems to me that you’re taking a considerable risk. He asked you to have it ready for him in your bedroom. He didn’t say which bedroom.”

      “Good Lord! I never thought of that!” said M. Gournay-Martin, with an air of sudden and very lively alarm.

      “His Grace is right,” said Guerchard. “It would be exactly like Lupin to send that telegram to drive you out of the house with the coronet to some place where you would be less protected. That is exactly one of his tricks.”

      “Good Heavens!” said the millionaire, pulling out his keys and unlocking the bag. He opened it, paused hesitatingly, and snapped it to again.

      “Half a minute,” he said. “I want a word with you, Duke.”

      He led the way out of the drawing-room door and the Duke followed him. He shut the door and said in a whisper:

      “In a case like this, I suspect everybody.”

      “Everybody suspects everybody, apparently,” said the Duke. “Are you sure you don’t suspect me?”

      “Now, now, this is no time for joking,” said the millionaire impatiently. “What do you think about Guerchard?”

      “About Guerchard?” said the Duke. “What do you mean?”

      “Do you think I can put full confidence in Guerchard?” said M. Gournay-Martin.

      “Oh, I think so,” said the Duke. “Besides, I shall be here to look after Guerchard. And, though I wouldn’t undertake to answer for Lupin, I think I can answer for Guerchard. If he tries to escape with the coronet, I will wring his neck for you with pleasure. It would do me good. And it would do Guerchard good, too.”

      The millionaire stood reflecting for a minute or two. Then he said, “Very good; I’ll trust him.”

      Hardly had the door closed behind the millionaire and the Duke, when Guerchard crossed the room quickly to Germaine and drew from his pocket the photograph of Victoire and the young man.

      “Do you know this photograph of his Grace, mademoiselle?” he said quickly.

      Germaine took the photograph and looked at it.

      “It’s rather faded,” she said.

      “Yes; it’s about ten years old,” said Guerchard.

      “I seem to know the face of the woman,” said Germaine. “But if it’s ten years old it certainly isn’t the photograph of the Duke.”

      “But it’s like him?” said Guerchard.

      “Oh, yes, it’s like the Duke as he is now—at least, it’s a little like him. But it’s not like the Duke as he was ten years ago. He has changed so,” said Germaine.

      “Oh, has he?” said Guerchard.

      “Yes; there was that exhausting journey of his—and then his illness. The doctors gave up all hope of him, you know.”

      “Oh, did they?” said Guerchard.

      “Yes; at Montevideo. But his health is quite restored now.”

      The door opened and the millionaire and the Duke came into the room. M. Gournay-Martin set his bag upon the table, unlocked it, and with a solemn air took out the case which held the coronet. He opened it; and they looked at it.

      “Isn’t it beautiful?” he said with a sigh.

      “Marvellous!” said the Duke.

      M. Gournay-Martin closed the case, and said solemnly:

      “There is danger, M. Guerchard, so I am going to trust the coronet to you. You are the defender of my hearth and home—you are the proper person to guard the coronet. I take it that you have no objection?”

      “Not the slightest, M. Gournay-Martin,” said Guerchard. “It’s exactly what I wanted you to ask me to do.”

      M. Gournay-Martin hesitated. Then he handed the coronet to Guerchard, saying with a frank and noble air, “I have every confidence in you, M. Guerchard.”

      “Thank you,” said Guerchard.

      “Good-night,” said M. Gournay-Martin.

      “Good-night, M. Guerchard,” said Germaine.

      “I think, after all, I’ll change my mind and go with you. I’m very short of sleep,” said the Duke. “Good-night, M. Guerchard.”

      “You’re never going too, your Grace!” cried Guerchard.

      “Why, you don’t want me to stay, do you?” said the Duke.

      “Yes,” said Guerchard slowly.

      “I think I would rather go to bed,” said the Duke gaily.

      “Are you afraid?” said Guerchard, and there was challenge, almost an insolent challenge, in his tone.

      There was a pause. The Duke frowned slightly with a reflective air. Then he drew himself up; and said a little haughtily:

      “You’ve certainly found the way to make me stay, M. Guerchard.”

      “Yes, yes; stay, stay,” said M. Gournay-Martin hastily. “It’s an excellent idea, excellent. You’re the very man to help M. Guerchard, Duke. You’re an intrepid explorer, used to danger and resourceful, absolutely fearless.”

      “Do you really mean to say you’re not going home to bed, Jacques?” said Germaine, disregarding her father’s wish with her usual frankness.

      “No; I’m going to stay with M. Guerchard,” said the Duke slowly.

      “Well, you will be fresh to go to the Princess’s tomorrow night,” said Germaine petulantly. “You didn’t get any sleep at all last night, you couldn’t have. You left Charmerace at eight o’clock; you were motoring all the night, and only got to Paris at six o’clock this morning.”

      “Motoring all night, from eight o’clock to six!” muttered Guerchard under his breath.

      “Oh, that will be all right,” said the Duke carelessly. “This interesting affair is to be over by midnight, isn’t it?”

      “Well, I warn you that, tired or fresh, you will have to come with me to the Princess’s tomorrow night. All Paris will be there—all Paris, that is, who are in Paris.”

      “Oh, I shall be fresh enough,” said the Duke.

      They went out of the drawing-room and down the stairs, all four of them. There was an alert readiness about Guerchard, as if he were ready to spring. He kept within a foot of the Duke right to the front door. The detective in charge opened it; and they went down the steps to

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