"Oho, you talk very big, sir. Perhaps you will be so obliging as
to tell me what I have done."

"You have connived at the escape of a criminal from justice--"

"That lady? Psha!"

"She is charged with a heinous crime--that in which you yourself
were implicated--the murder of that man on the train."

"Bah! You must be a stupid goose, to hint at such a thing! A lady
of birth, breeding, the highest respectability--impossible!"

"All that has not prevented her from allying herself with base,
common wretches. I do not say she struck the blow, but I believe
she inspired, concerted, approved it, leaving her confederates to
do the actual deed."

"Confederates?"

"The man Ripaldi, your Italian fellow traveller; her maid,
Hortense Petitpré, who was missing this morning."

The General was fairly staggered at this unexpected blow. Half an
hour ago he would have scouted the very thought, indignantly
repelled the spoken words that even hinted a suspicion of Sabine
Castagneto. But that telegram, signed Ripaldi, the introduction of
the maid's name, and the suggestion that she was troublesome, the
threat that if the Countess did not go, they would come to her,
and her marked uneasiness thereat--all this implied plainly the