"But perhaps I have," answered Pauline. "See, monsieur," she added, extending her plump little hand, upon one finger of which there sparkled a superb diamond ring, "tell me what you think of those diamonds."
Paul Lisimon started, for he recognized the ring. It was one he had often seen Camillia wear.
The French governess had been sent to him, then, by the devoted girl?
"They are magnificent stones, are they not, monsieur?" repeated Pauline, still addressing the officer.
"They are, mademoiselle."
"The ring is worth eight hundred dollars, and it is yours for eight minutes private conversation with the prisoner."
"Impossible, mademoiselle."
"Eight hundred dollars for eight minutes. That is at the rate of a hundred dollars a minute."
"True, mademoiselle," replied the officer, "but if in those eight minutes my prisoner should take it into his head to jump out of that window, I am a ruined man."
"I pledge you my honor I will make no attempt to escape!" said Paul, eagerly.