"Well, recall our conversation. There's a criminal: if it isn't me, it's you."
D'Estreicher must have considered the young girl a formidable adversary, and he must have been frightened by her threats, for while he remained quite agreeable, gallant even, jesting with her, he was indefatigable in his investigation. At his bidding the servants lifted down the baskets and boxes, and displayed her wretched wardrobe, in the strongest contrast to the brilliantly colored handkerchiefs and shawls with which the young girl loved to adorn herself.
They found nothing.
They searched the walls and platform of the caravan, the mattresses, the harness of One-eyed Magpie, the sack of oats, and the food. Nothing.
They searched the four boys. A maid felt Dorothy's clothes. The search was fruitless. The earrings were not to be found.
"And that?" said d'Estreicher, pointing to the huge basket loaded with pots and pans which hung under the vehicle.
With a furtive kick on the ankle Dorothy straightened Saint-Quentin who was tottering.
"Let's bolt!" he stuttered.
"Don't be a fool. The earrings are no longer there."
"I may have made a mistake."