She felt exhausted. But for nothing in the world would she have yielded to her lassitude before the return of the captain. She asked Saint-Quentin how the attack had come to be so long delayed.
"An accident, wasn't it?"
"Yes," said he. "The detectives made a mistake about the inn; and the farm-servants were late getting back from the fête. It was necessary to collect the whole lot; and the car broke down."
Montfaucon came running up. Dorothy went on:
"Perhaps, Saint-Quentin, there'll be the name of a town, or rather of a château, on the medal. In that case, find out all you can about the route and take the caravan there. Did you find it, captain?"
"Yes, mummy."
"Give it to me, pet."
What emotion Dorothy felt when she touched the gold medal so keenly coveted by them all, which one might reckon the most precious of talismans, as the guarantee even of success!
It was a medal twice the size of a five-franc piece, and above all much thicker, less smoothly cut than a modern medal, less delicately modeled, and of duller gold that did not shine.
On the face was the motto: