Jane had followed Miss Carthusen to the sitting-room door, and, the moment she heard her announcement, broke out into exclamations: "I knew it! I have known it all the time! O poor Mother Chevreuse!"
F. Chevreuse stood up, as if to take freer breath, and his face grew crimson.
"In what way does this arrest concern me particularly, Miss Carthusen?" he asked, striving to speak calmly.
"F. Chevreuse, cannot you guess?" she returned. "Many others have suspected, if you have not. I believed it almost from the first."
"I do not believe it!" he exclaimed, and began to pace the room. "I will not believe it! It is impossible!" And then, whether believing or not in this accusation, he felt anew the whole force of that terrible blow. "O mother, mother!" he cried, and burst into tears.
"I suspected him on account of the shawl," Miss Carthusen went on. "His has not been seen in the house since that day; and...."
F. Chevreuse was leaning up against the wall, with his face hidden in his arm; but he recovered his self-possession immediately, and put a stop to these revelations. "Say no more!" There was a certain severity both in his voice and gesture. "I do not wish to hear any surmises nor particulars. I should suppose that some person in authority ought to bring me this information. But I thank you for taking the trouble; and perhaps you will be so kind as to stop at Mr. Macon's door on your way home, and ask him to come to me. He cannot have gone out yet. I would like to see him at once."
The young lady had no choice. She was obliged to go.
Mr. Macon was, in fact, already on his way to the house; and soon the story received authoritative confirmation.
"He did not seem to be at all surprised, sir," said the officer who had made the arrest. "He is a very cool sort of man on the outside; though I would not have liked to go after him alone."