"I suppose so. He asked me not to say anything about it. I had to tell you, to explain matters."
"And he doesn't know that you are in Paris?" The Prefect gave a sudden laugh. "Ma foi!—what a joke!"
"A joke?"
"Assuredly! Don't you see? I am going to ask you to take up this case, yourself. I must use every means to recover the child of this Stapleton, before others do so for him. My professional pride will not permit me to be beaten. If I can't have your husband, at least I shall have you."
"But—I shall be working in opposition to him."
"Not in opposition. You will both have the same object in view—the recovery of Mr. Stapleton's boy. Whichever of you does so first, the result will be the same—the boy will be restored to his parents. But I want you, my child, to be the one to do this."
"But, Monsieur Lefevre, I could not hope to accomplish anything—where trained men have failed."
"Who knows? I remember well the assistance you gave us, in the matter of the ivory snuff box. Without your help, we should never have recovered it. I have faith in a woman's intuition. You will find this child for me, and give your husband the surprise of his life."
"But," said Grace, smiling mischievously at the prospect which opened before her, "suppose he should see me?"
"You must disguise yourself somewhat. Change the color of your hair; it is easily done—here in Paris." The Prefect laughed. "A slight alteration in appearance only will be necessary. And do not recognize your husband, should you meet him face to face. That is most important."