tional, and I knew that he had deeply appreciated the sacrifice that I had made when I surrendered my liberty in order to save himself and the others. During the time that I was in the Santé he had sent one of his gang, disguised as a priest, to tell me that if money could help me to get my freedom I might rest assured that none would be spared in the attempt.
But Léontine's persuasion had overcome his scruples. The girl was an indispensable ally to him in his work, and I more than half-suspected that he was himself in love with her. I remembered how his lustrous eyes had glowed as they rested on her the night of the dinner-party at Léontine's house. He had accordingly undertaken the theft, and the opportunity to carry it off had come sooner and more easily, no doubt, than he had hoped for. On meeting Miss Dalghren by chance at the Billings dinner he had sent a word to Chu-Chu to get on the job. It was even possible that Chu-Chu himself had been at the dinner, for as M. de Maxeville, clubman and officier de la légion d'honneur, he went a good deal in Society. Chu-Chu might have left early, and have been in or about the Cuttynge's house when Miss Dalghren got home. Miss Dalghren had said that after playing the harp Ivan had brought her a glass of orangeade which had a queer taste, as if from some liqueur. It was possible that Ivan had drugged the beverage with an opiate not strong enough to take immediate effect but which would ensure of her not waking once she fell asleep. Miss Dalghren had remarked that she had never felt so sleepy in her life and had awakened with a splitting headache.
The chance of Edith being asleep, and John at
