another child, wrapped in the shawl which had enveloped the lost child
when you found her--"

"Have they been overtaken?" hastily interrupted Cambray, forgetting
himself.

"No, they have not--more 's the pity!" returned the marquis. "My
detective was not clever enough to perceive the difference between the
eight-year-old girl who was carried to your apartments at ten o'clock,
and the twelve-year-old little maid whom your friend brought downstairs
at eleven, pretending that he was going in search of the lost child's
mother. Besides, everything conspired to aid your friend to escape. He
was too cunning for us, and got such a start of his pursuers that there
was no use trying to follow him. We do not even know in what direction
he has gone."

Cambray repressed the sigh of relief which would have lightened his
heart, and forced himself to say indifferently:

"Neither the young man nor the child concern me. It is his own family
affair, in which I never meddled."

"That is a move I cannot allow, M. Cambray!" sharply responded the
marquis. "There are proofs that you are perfectly familiar with his
affairs."

Again Cambray smiled scornfully.

"You have evidently searched my lodgings."