"I implied no knowledge on your part, Monsieur de St. Valier, when I said the fellow had got into your house. We followed his track in the snow, and though we lost it for a moment in a crowd, before the wine shop yonder, we soon came on the same footprint, which led through the snow to your porch. The same feet left marks of snow on the porch, to your very door, and there are no marks leading away from it. Moreover, I know the man, and have reason to think he would have come to this house while in Quebec."
At this point Catherine hastened down the stairs, at first nonchalantly, but, on approaching the foot, assuming a look of wonderment at the scene in the hall.
"Why, what has happened, Gerard? What is it, uncle?" she asked.
"And now," cried Blagdon, excitedly, "I know the man has been here since I left Miss de St. Valier an hour ago!" Catherine saw, as did her brother, that Blagdon's eyes were fixed balefully on the miniature, which she had thoughtlessly retained in her hand.
"What man?" queried Catherine, turning red.
"The man who brought you back that portrait, which you didn't have an hour ago," cried Blagdon, half mad with jealousy. "Sure proof the man must have entered this house since he left Colonel Maclean's quarters, where he had been all day!"
"You are wrong, Lieutenant Blagdon," said Catherine, quietly. "Though you didn't know it an hour ago, I have had my mother's portrait since yesterday, as I meant to tell my uncle when I should see fit. It was handed to Gerard in the street by a man who did not wait for any words,—is it not so, Gerard?"
Dick, looking down from the darkness of the landing, saw Gerard bow in confirmation, and knew that the understanding between brother and sister was complete. He saw, also, Blagdon shake his head, with a derisively incredulous laugh.
"If any one came in by that door," said the elder St. Valier, "the servant should know it. You were here, Antoine. Did you admit any one?"
"Lieutenant Blagdon and the soldiers," replied Antoine.