"You take it," said the Duc de Tremont to Julia Redmond, "you take it, Mademoiselle." She did so without hesitation; it was evidently Sabron's pocketbook, a leather one with his initials upon it, together with a little package of letters. On the top she saw her letter to him. Her hand trembled so that she could scarcely hold the package. It seemed to be all that was left to her. She heard Tremont ask:
"Where did you get this, you miserable dog?"
"After the battle," said the man coolly, with evident truthfulness, "I was very sick. We were in camp several days at ——. Then I got better and went along the dried river bank to look for Monsieur le Capitaine, and I found this in the sands."
"Do you believe him?" asked Julia Redmond.
"Hum," said Tremont. He did not wish to tell her he thought the man capable of robbing the dead body of his master. He asked the native: "Have you no other news?"
The man was silent. He clutched the rags at his breast and looked at Julia Redmond.
"Please give him some money, Monsieur."
"The dog!" Tremont shook him again. "Not yet." And he said to the man: "If this is all you have to tell we will give you one hundred francs for this parcel. You can go and don't return here again."
"But it is not all," said the native quietly, looking at Julia.
Her heart began to beat like mad and she looked at the man. His keen dark eyes seemed to pierce her.