"This will do you good," I said.
Then, when she had swallowed it, I asked her to explain the reason of her nocturnal visit to the castle.
She looked a pale, pathetic little figure, seated there before me, her fair head bowed with shame and confusion, her terrified eyes staring into space.
"I—I—am entirely in your hands, M'sieur," she stammered at last. "I came here to thieve, because—because I am forced to do so. It was work of peril for all three of us—for me most of all. This room was the last I intended to visit—and in it I found the very last person I wished to meet—you!"
"Tell me more about yourself," I urged. "I'm greatly interested."
"What is there to tell you?" she cried, her eyes filling with bitter tears. "I am a thief—that's all. You are a guest here—and it is your duty to your host to keep me here, and call the police. Jules was watching on the stairs below. By this time he knows you have trapped me, and they have both escaped—without a doubt—escaped with the stuff I handed to them ten minutes ago."
"Jules? Who is he?" I asked quickly.
"Jules Jeanjean—my uncle," she replied.
"Jules Jeanjean!" I ejaculated, "that man!" for the name was synonymous for all that was audacious and criminal.
"Yes, M'sieur."