ess, but since I have collected my ideas, I am sure that I have
nothing to reproach myself with."

"Do you mean to say, then," cried Coucon, "that the Vicomte walked
through the wall?"

"It is very strange," said Fanfar, thoughtfully. "And now, my friends,"
he added, turning to Coucon and Madame, "you may leave me here with
Monsieur Goutran."

"And with me?" added Bobichel.

"You can stay, if you will. I may need you."

"But, Monsieur Fanfar," said poor Madame, "I think we, too, are good for
something. You ought not to send us away."

The poor woman was greatly distressed.

"Oh! I have something for you to do. Examine the garden carefully, and
if you see the smallest thing that is unusual, come to me instantly."

"There won't be a corner in which I shall not put my nose, be sure of
that!" cried Coucon.

"Oh! if the Count were only here!" sighed Madame.

Fanfar was alone with Bobichel and Goutran.

"Have you anything to suggest?" he said, suddenly turning to Goutran.
"Do you know of any secret egress from this hotel?"

"None whatever," answered the artist.

"And yet you will observe that the girl was not carried away by either
of the doors that are known, and she is gone!"

"I did not think of that! There is unquestionably some issue known only
to the Count."

"Alas! the Count's enemies know it, also," answered Fanfar.

"Let us go to the room that the girl was in--"

"I was about to make that proposal. Now is the time, Bobichel," said
Fanfar, turning to the former clown, "to see if we cannot regain a
little of our cleverness."

"I am ready, even to go through the eye of a needle, if it be
necessary!" answered Bobichel.

Goutran took a candle and led the way. When they reached Jane's room
Fanfar took up a position in the centre of it, examined the ceiling, the
floor and the walls. Then Bobichel explored every inch of the floor,
which was covered with a thick carpet. But nothing could be found.

"This is most extraordinary," murmured Fanfar, "and yet I am convinced
that I am on the track."

Suddenly Bobichel uttered an exclamation. "Here is something, master!"

Fanfar and Goutran hastened to him. In one of the silk folds of the
hanging on the wall there was a bit of white lace, evidently torn from
something.

"I recognize that," said Goutran. "I ordered the peignoirs she required,
for we did not wish to admit any one into our secrets; and that lace
trimmed one of the peignoirs."

"And now we