"It seems hopeless to try to find out who it is," Philip said despondently.
"Not hopeless, sir, though doubtless difficult. With your permission, I will undertake this part of the task. I will get myself up as a workman out of employment--and there are many such--and will hang about near that little gate. It is the servants' entrance, and I shall be able to watch every woman that comes out."
"But what good will watching do?"
"It may do no good, sir, but yet it may help. A woman, with such a secret as that on her mind, will surely show some signs of it upon her face. She will either have a scared look, or an anxious look. She will not walk with an easy step."
"Well, there is something in what you say, Pierre. At any rate, I can think of nothing better."
The next morning Pierre took up his position opposite the gate, but had no news that night to report to his master; nor had he on the second or third; but on the fourth, he returned radiant.
"Good news, master. The count is alive, and I have found him."
Philip sprung from his settle, and grasped his faithful follower by the hand.
"Thank God for the news, Pierre. I had almost given up hope. How did you discover him?"
"Just as I expected, sir. I have seen, in the last three days, scores of women come out; but none of them needed a second look. Some were intent on their own finery, others were clearly bent on shopping. Some looked up and down the street, for a lover who ought to have been waiting for them. Not one of these had a secret of life and death on her mind.