“I don’t see it that way,” answered Dick, obstinately.
“Well, I hope he can prove an alibi. But if he does it will go hard with Beatrice Trevor. Suspicion already points to her.”
“Oh! no, no!” cried Peggy, in horror, and she looked appealingly at Dick.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, sorrowfully, answering her unspoken thought. “You see, it’s very obvious that she has some secret to conceal.”
Peggy actually jumped as her mind flew to the box which was at that moment safely hidden in the secret drawer of her bureau. Beatrice guilty—never—never—she put the thought from her, but it would return.
“You mustn’t say such things,” she said, angry with herself for her disloyal thoughts, and her face paled perceptibly.
“I am sorry I spoke in that way,” replied Dick. “I had forgotten for the moment that she is your greatest friend. Indeed, Peggy, I meant no offense. You know I would do anything for you, anything.”
“So would we all, Miss Peggy,” exclaimed Tom, and de Morny, but half understanding the rapidly spoken English, nodded his head back and forth like a china mandarin.
“Then,” said Peggy, “find the real murderer of Mrs. Trevor. That,” loyally, “would clear my friends from suspicion. And I will give you”—unconsciously her eyes sought Dick’s and the look in them made his heart throb with hope; then she glanced quickly at Count de Morny, and his heart sank with sickening dread—“unto the half of my kingdom.”
“I accept the challenge,” he said, gravely, and he raised her hand to his lips; while Tom, in a few sentences, explained the wager to the two foreigners.