"Certainly."
He appeared somewhat uneasy. "What are you up to?"
"I am trying to find Mr. Stapleton's child."
A queer smile came over the fellow's face. "Is that why you stole the cigarettes?" he asked.
"I did not steal them. They were taken by a man with a black beard, who came in through the window when I was here."
"A black beard?" He smiled incredulously. "And you let him take them."
"Yes. Why not? Were they of such great value?"
He glanced about uneasily, but did not reply to her question. "Who was the man?" he presently asked.
"I do not know. I followed him. He entered Mr. Stapleton's house."
"Sacré! It must have been François!"