"Give it me, quick!" There was a loud knock at the door. "They are
coming. Remember!" Mother Tontaine put her long finger to her lip. "Not
a word! I have found nothing, of course. Nothing, I can swear to that,
and you will not forget Mother Tontaine?"

Now M. Floçon stood at the open door awaiting the searcher's report. He
looked much disconcerted when the old woman took him on one side and
briefly explained that the search had been altogether fruitless.

There was nothing to justify suspicion, nothing, so far as she could
find.

The detective looked from one to the other--from the hag he had employed
in this unpleasant quest, to the lady on whom it had been tried. The
Countess, to his surprise, did not complain. He had expected further and
strong upbraidings. Strange to say, she took it very quietly. There was
no indignation in her face. She was still pale, and her hands trembled,
but she said nothing, made no reference, at least, to what she had just
gone through.

Again he took counsel with his colleague, while the Countess was kept
apart.

"What next, M. Floçon?" asked the Judge. "What shall we do with her?"

"Let her go," answered the detective, briefly.

"What! do you suggest this, sir," said the Judge, slyly. "After your
strong and well-grounded suspicions?"