The Senator looked her up and down with a fine contempt.
"So much for a great reputation," he said. "My good Lestrade, the warders who told me you were the cleverest woman in Sing-Sing must have made a grievous error, for a really clever criminal would never have been cornered by a brave man pretending to join the confederacy. The Duke has not tripped once all through the affair, except that he has been a little too reckless in exposing his valuable life to peril. The result of his heroic conduct is that you are outwitted all along the line, and that the three millions are secure in that safe."
This misdescription of the case, so adroitly near the mark and yet differing from the truth in the all-important word "pretending," made the Duke catch his breath. Somehow the matter which he had believed himself to be working single-handed seemed to have been taken out of his shaky grasp, and, shamed by the unmerited praise, he waited for the rejoinder of the adventuress. It came crisp and sharp.
"Then what you have to do is to call in the police and hand us over to justice," she said defiantly. "The authorities will be puzzled to find a reason for all you worthy amateurs bottling up your knowledge of a crime that would have shaken two continents. I think I shall be able to instruct my counsel so that by the time he has done with him his Grace won't be much of a hero."
The Senator smiled superior.
"Ah!" he retorted, pleasantly; "you might have tried that if you had had the chance. But then, you see, you won't have it. I'm only a visitor here—like yourself, his Grace's guest—but I believe the intention is that you and your friend, who really need not scowl so, are not to face a judge this time. General Sadgrove has charge of what we may call the liberation department, and he will enlighten you."
The man Benzon, lying propped on his elbow, with Azimoolah standing over him statuesquely menacing, shot a sly glance of triumph at his confederate, but it met with only a sickly smile for a response. Lestrade's eyes turned with shrinking expectancy to the General, her insolent demeanor having vanished, strangely enough, at the hint that she would not be detained.
"Yes, there will be no prosecution," the General said, sternly. "The Duke took the onus of defeating your aims upon him before he was called to his present high station, and his friends are unanimous that he ought not to pursue the matter now. You, Madame Lestrade, will be allowed to depart early to-morrow morning in the name you have chosen to assume; and you, sir, can go at once by the way you came—through the window."
The man Benzon rose to his feet with alacrity, trying vainly to catch the eye of his accomplice, and shooting furtive glances at the package which she still carried. There was evidently something that he did not understand, and wanted to before he availed himself of the unexpected permission. There came a curious gleam into the General's eyes as he noticed this perplexity, and when he took up his parable again there was a ring in his voice that chained his hearers' attention. Sybil, too, leaned forward, watching the two bond-robbers alternately, as though expecting a surprise for them.
"Before you go I will explain what is puzzling you," the General went on, addressing himself to Benzon, and pointing to the dummy package in Cora Lestrade's hand. "You are under the impression that those are the bonds, and you are half inclined to think that we are letting you go in ignorance of what you believe to be the case—that the genuine bonds were handed to that lady in the crypt by the Duke. Know, then, that the Duke wasn't in the crypt at all, nor were any bonds handed over. His Grace's place was taken by Mr. Forsyth there, who succeeded in getting from her the spurious bonds and handed her in return a lot of blank paper. See—examine it for yourself."