"Ah, yes, she knows," reflected the commissary. "And, gentlemen, all our
talk brings us back to this, _we must find that woman_."

At half past one Gibelin appeared to announce the arrest of Kittredge. He
had tried vainly to get from the American some clew to the owner of cloak
and bag, but the young man had refused to speak and, with sullen
indifference, had allowed himself to be locked up in the big room at the
depot.

"I'll see what _I_ can squeeze out of him in the morning," said Hauteville
grimly. There was no judge in the _parquet_ who had his reputation for
breaking down the resistance of obstinate prisoners.

"You've got your work cut out," snapped the detective. "He's a stubborn
devil."

In the midst of these perplexities and technicalities a note was brought in
for M. Pougeot. The commissary glanced at it quickly and then, with a word
of excuse, left the room, returning a few minutes later and whispering
earnestly to M. Simon.

"You say _he_ is here?" exclaimed the latter. "I thought he was sailing
for----"

M. Pougeot bent closer and whispered again.

"Paul Coquenil!" exclaimed the chief. "Why, certainly, ask him to come in."

A moment later Coquenil entered and all rose with cordial greetings, that
is, all except Gibelin, whose curt nod and suspicious glances showed that