“Same here,” said Fessenden dejectedly. “However, let’s change rooms, so we can both feel sure.” Then Kitty searched the drawing-room, and Rob the library, and they both scrutinized every inch of the hall.
“I didn’t find so much as a thread,” said Kitty, as they sat down on a great carved seat in the hall to compare notes.
“I didn’t either,” said Rob, “with one insignificant exception; in the drawing-room I found this, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
As he spoke he drew from his pocket a tiny globule of a silver color.
“What is it?” asked Kitty, taking it with her finger-tips from the palm of his hand.
“It’s a cachou.”
“And what in the world is a cachou? What is it for?”
“Why, it’s a little confection filled with a sort of spice. Some men use them after smoking, to eradicate the odor of tobacco.”
“Eat them, do you mean? Are they good to eat?” and impulsive Kitty was about to pop the tiny thing into her mouth, when Rob caught her hand.
“Don’t!” he cried. “That’s my only clue, after all this search, and it may be of importance.”