“That will be for the examining magistrate to decide,” said Guerchard; and he went to the door and called Bonavent. Bonavent came in, and Guerchard said: “When the prison van comes, put this woman in it; and send her down to the station.”
“But what have I done?” cried Victoire. “I’m innocent! I declare I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing at all. It’s not a crime to carry a piece of chalk in one’s pocket.”
“Now, that’s a matter for the examining magistrate. You can explain it to him,” said Guerchard. “I’ve got nothing to do with it: so it’s no good making a fuss now. Do go quietly, there’s a good woman.”
He spoke in a quiet, business-like tone. Victoire looked him in the eyes, then drew herself up, and went quietly out of the room.
CHAPTER XVII
SONIA’S ESCAPE
“One of M. Formery’s innocents,” said Guerchard, turning to the Duke.
“The chalk?” said the Duke. “Is it the same chalk?”
“It’s blue,” said Guerchard, holding it out. “The same as that of the signatures on the walls. Add that fact to the woman’s sudden realization of what she was doing, and you’ll see that they were written with it.”
“It is rather a surprise,” said the Duke. “To look at her you would think that she was the most honest woman in the world.”
“Ah, you don’t know Lupin, your Grace,” said Guerchard. “He can do anything with women; and they’ll do anything for him. And, what’s more, as far as I can see, it doesn’t make a scrap of difference whether they’re honest or not. The fair-haired lady I was telling you about was probably an honest woman; Ganimard is sure of it. We should have found out long ago who she was if she had been a wrong ’un. And Ganimard also swears that when he arrested Lupin on board the Provence some woman, some ordinary, honest woman among the passengers, carried away Lady Garland’s jewels, which he had stolen and was bringing to America, and along with them a matter of eight hundred pounds which he had stolen from a fellow-passenger on the voyage.”