“Even so—even so—some one must have hunted out and taken the book—Tell me, monsieur,” cried Beautrelet, addressing the baron, “is there no one whom you suspect?”
“We might ask my daughter.”
“Yes—yes—that’s it—perhaps she will know.”
M. de Vélines rang for the footman. A few minutes later, Mme. de Villemon entered. She was a young woman, with a sad and resigned face. Beautrelet at once asked her:
“You found this volume upstairs, madame, in the library?”
“Yes, in a parcel of books that had not been uncorded.”
“And you read it?”
“Yes, last night.”
“When you read it, were those two pages missing? Try and remember: the two pages following this table of figures and dots?”
“No, certainly not,” she said, greatly astonished. “There was no page missing at all.”