"What became of the fair-haired lady?" said the Duke.

"I don't know. I have heard that she is dead," said Guerchard. "Now
I come to think of it, I heard quite definitely that she died."

"It must be awful for a woman to love a man like Lupin--the
constant, wearing anxiety," said the Duke thoughtfully.

"I dare say. Yet he can have his pick of sweethearts. I've been
offered thousands of francs by women--women of your Grace's world
and wealthy Viennese--to make them acquainted with Lupin," said
Guerchard.

"You don't surprise me," said the Duke with his ironic smile. "Women
never do stop to think--where one of their heroes is concerned. And
did you do it?"

"How could I? If I only could! If I could find Lupin entangled with
a woman like Ganimard did--well--" said Guerchard between his teeth.

"He'd never get out of YOUR clutches," said the Duke with
conviction.

"I think not--I think not," said Guerchard grimly. "But come, I may
as well get on."

He walked across the turf to the foot of the ladder and looked at
the footprints round it. He made but a cursory examination of them,
and took his way down the garden-path, out of the door in the wall