Mr. Seymour's companion, a pale and delicate-looking man, had listened in silence to all that had passed, but while they were partaking of the refreshment that had been hastily prepared, he joined in the conversation.
"My dear Seymour," said he, "I think I know a better plan to get on the track of this swindler than if we had the help of all the policemen of Paris."
"Name it," returned his friend.
"Well, you know the St. Bernard dogs are the best in the world for following up a scent; and as Hector is a capital specimen of the breed, I think we can not do better than set him on the track."
"But the dog doesn't know him, so how can he trace him?"
"The fellow has perhaps left something behind him in his hurry; if so, then let Hector get his nose to it, and I'll wager anything that he'll follow him up even if he is fifty miles off."
"That's a capital idea," assented Mr. Seymour, delighted at the prospect of serving his young friend. "Hector knows that we're speaking about him. See how knowing he looks! Run, Walter, and see if your precious companion has left anything behind him."
Accompanied by André, who began to perceive that Seppi had cheated him, Walter sped up stairs to the room in which he had slept, and soon returned in triumph.
"He has left some of his clothes," exclaimed the now excited youth. "They are worthless things; and certainly no loss to him, after getting possession of all that money."
"Not so worthless after all," signified Mr. Seymour. "Who knows but we may find this bundle worth fifty thousand francs to you, Walter, or rather to Mr. Frieshardt? Lay it down here. Now then, Hector, take a good sniff."