"Good! good! Wait--we have one of the gang--wait till I question
him," said M. Formery, rubbing his hands; and his eyes sparkled with
joy.

"Well, no; I'm afraid we haven't," said the Duke in an apologetic
tone,

"What! We haven't? Has he escaped from the police? Oh, those country
police!" cried M. Formery.

"No; I didn't charge him with the theft," said the Duke.

"You didn't charge him with the theft?" cried M. Formery, astounded.

"No; he was very young and he begged so hard. I had the pendant. I
let him go," said the Duke.

"Oh, your Grace, your Grace! Your duty to society!" cried M.
Formery.

"Yes, it does seem to have been rather weak," said the Duke; "but
there you are. It's no good crying over spilt milk."

M. Formery folded his arms and walked, frowning, backwards and
forwards across the room.

He stopped, raised his hand with a gesture commanding attention, and
said, "I have no hesitation in saying that there is a connection--an
intimate connection--between the thefts at Charmerace and this
burglary!"