Still no reply.
"You took them from behind the bracket yonder. What did you do with them?"
"They are gone," she said quickly.
"Where?"
"That I shall not tell you."
She felt the claws of Tricot close upon her shoulder until she shrank with the pain, but she made no sound.
"One moment, Tricot," said the Irishman, "there are first other ways of making Madame speak. Release her."
Tricot obeyed.
"Of course Tricot and I can search you."
Piquette laughed.