"I have heard of none."

"You do not even know who this stranger was?"

"Oh, yes, we have discovered that. He was a worthless fellow named Drouet."

"A Frenchman?"

"Yes, living in an attic in the Rue de la Huchette, at Paris."

M. Armand had been gazing at me intently, but now his look relaxed, and I fancied that he drew a deep breath as a man might do when relieved of a burden. At the back of my brain a vague and shadowy suspicion began to form--a suspicion that perhaps M. Armand knew more of this affair than he had as yet acknowledged.

"You did not, by any chance, know him?" I asked carelessly.

"No, I think not. But there is one thing I do not understand, Mr.

Lester, and you will pardon me if I am indiscreet. But I do not understand what this Drouet, as you call him, was doing in the house of Mr. Vantine."

"He was trying to get possession of the letters," I said.

"Oh, so it was that!" and my companion nodded. "And in trying to get those letters, he was killed?"

"Yes, but what none of us understands, M. Armand, is how he was killed. Who or what killed him? How was that poison administered? Can you suggest an explanation?"

He sat for a moment staring thoughtfully out of the window.

"It is a nice problem," he said, "a most interesting one. I will think it over, Mr. Lester. Perhaps I may be able to make a suggestion. I do not know. But, in any event, I shall see you again Wednesday. If it is agreeable to you, we can meet at the house of Mr.

Vantine and exchange the cabinets."

"At what time?"

"I do not know with exactness. There may be some delay in getting the cabinet from the ship. Perhaps it would be better if I called for you?"

"Very well," I a.s.sented.

"Permit me to express again my apologies that such a mistake should have been made by us. Really, we are most careful; but even we sometimes suffer from careless servants. It desolates me to think that I cannot offer these apologies to Mr. Vantine in person. Till Wednesday, then, Mr. Lester."

"Till Wednesday," I echoed, and watched his erect and perfectly-garbed figure until it vanished through the doorway. A fascinating man, I told myself as I turned back to my desk, and one whom I should like to know more intimately; a man with a hobby for the mysteries of crime, with which I could fully sympathise; and I smiled as I thought of the burning interest with which he had listened to the story of the double tragedy. How navely he had confessed his thought that he would have made a great detective--or a great criminal; and here he was only a dealer in curios. Well, I had had the same thought, more than once--and here was I, merely a not-too-successful lawyer. Decidedly, M. Armand and myself had much in common!

CHAPTER XVIII

I PART WITH THE BOULE CABINET

The coroner's inquest was held next day, and my surmise proved to be correct. The police had discovered practically no new evidence; none, certainly, which shed any light on the way in which Drouet and Philip Vantine had met death. Each of the witnesses told his story much as I have told it here, and it was evident that the jury was bewildered by the seemingly inextricable tangle of circ.u.mstances.

To my relief, Drouet's ident.i.ty was established without any help from me. The bag which he had left on the pier had been opened at the request of the police and a card-case found with his address on it.

Why he had sent in to Vantine a card not his own, and what his business with Vantine had been, were details concerning which the police could offer no theory, and which I did not feel called upon to explain, since neither in any way made clearer the mystery of his death.

An amusing incident of the inquest was the attempt made by Goldberger to heckle G.o.dfrey, evidently at Grady's suggestion.

"On the morning after the tragedy," Goldberger began sweetly, "you printed in the _Record_ a photograph which you claimed to be that of the woman who had called upon Mr. Vantine the night before, and who was, presumably, the last person to see him alive. Where did you get that photograph?"

"It was a copy of one which Drouet carried in his watch-case,"

answered G.o.dfrey.

"Since then," pursued Goldberger, "you have made no further reference to that feature of the case. I presume you found out that you were mistaken?"

"On the contrary, I proved that I was correct."

Goldberger's face reddened, and his look was not pleasant.

"'Prove' is rather a strong word, isn't it?" he asked.

"It is the right word."

"What was the woman's connection with the man Drouet?"

"She had been his mistress."

"You say that very confidently," said Goldberger, his lips curling.

"After all, it is merely a guess, isn't it?"

"I have reason to say it confidently," retorted G.o.dfrey quietly, "since the woman confessed as much in my presence."

Again Goldberger reddened.

"I suppose she also confessed that it was really she who called upon Mr. Vantine?" he sneered.

"She not only confessed that," said G.o.dfrey, still more quietly, "but she told in detail what occurred during that visit."

"The confession was made to yourself alone, of course?" queried Goldberger, in a tone deliberately insulting.

G.o.dfrey flushed a little at the words, but managed to retain his self-control.

"Not at all," he said. "It was made in the presence of Mr. Lester and of another distinguished lawyer whose name I am not at liberty to reveal."

Goldberger swallowed hard, as though he had received a slap in the face. I dare say, he felt as though he had!

"This woman is in New York?" he asked.

"I believe so."

"What is her name and address?"

"I am not at liberty to answer."