"Yes."
"Why have you done it?" Mr. Ricardo cried.
Hanaud advanced to the bed mysteriously on the tips of his toes.
"I will tell you," he said, in his most confidential tones. "Only it must remain a secret between you and me. I did it—because I have a sense of humour."
"I hate publicity," said Mr. Ricardo acidly.
"On the other hand you have four thousand francs," protested the detective. "Besides, what else should I do? If I name myself, the very people we are seeking to catch—who, you may be sure, will be the first to read this advertisement—will know that I, the great, the incomparable Hanaud, am after them; and I do not want them to know that. Besides"—and he spoke now in a gentle and most serious voice—"why should we make life more difficult for Mlle. Celie by telling the world that the police want her? It will be time enough for that when she appears before the Juge d'Instruction."
Mr. Ricardo grumbled inarticulately, and read through the advertisement again.
"Besides, your description is incomplete," he said. "There is no mention of the diamond earrings which Celia Harland was wearing when she went away."
"Ah! so you noticed that!" exclaimed Hanaud. "A little more experience and I should be looking very closely to my laurels. But as for the earrings—I will tell you. Mlle. Celie was not wearing them when she went away from the Villa Rose."
"But—but," stammered Ricardo, "the case upon the dressing-room table was empty."