had assumed the responsibility of that
innocent-looking suit-case I never dreamt that it contained Lady
Norah Kendrew's stolen jewels, as it did, otherwise I would certainly
never have attempted to pass it through the Customs at Rouen. But why
and how, I wondered, had Lola's suspicions been aroused? Why had she
warned me?

Rayne had probably sent messengers with stolen property to France by
that route before, knowing that, contrary to the shrewd examination at
Calais, the officers of certain trading ships and the _douaniers_ were
on friendly terms.

When again I raised my eyes furtively to the Frenchman in the white
spats I was relieved to find that he had disappeared. My fears that he
might be an agent of the Surete were groundless. The afternoon was
delightful as we sat beneath the trees, but Madame suddenly
recollected an engagement she had with her dressmaker at five o'clock,
so we reentered our taxi and drove back to the Porte Maillot and
thence direct to the hotel.

We found the door of the sitting-room locked, but as Madame turned the
handle Duperre's voice was heard inquiring who was there.

"Open the door, Vincent," urged his wife.

"All right! Wait a moment," was the reply.

We heard the quick rustling of paper, and after a lapse of perhaps a
minute he unlocked the door for us to enter.

"Well? Had a nice time--eh?" he asked, turning to me as he reclosed
the door and again locked it.

I replied in the affirmative, noticing that on the table was something
covered with a newspaper.

"I've been busy," he said with a grin, and lifting the paper disclosed
a quantity of bracelets, rings, pendants and other ornaments from
which the gems had been removed. During our absence he had been
occupied in removing the stolen jewels from their settings.

"Yes," I laughed. "You seem to have been very busy, Vincent!"

Beside the bent and broken articles of gold lay a little pile of
glittering gems, none of them very large, but all of first quality.

"Lady Norah wouldn't like to see her treasures in such a condition,
would she?" laughed Duperre. "We shall get rid of them to old
Heydenryck, who is arriving presently."

"Who is he?"

"A Dutch dealer who lives here in Paris. He's always open to buy good
stuff, but he won't look at any stones that are set. Rayne's idea was
to sell them, just as they were, to a dealer named Steffensen, who
buys stuff here and smuggles it over to New York and San Francisco,
where it