"A letter . . . " he said, still searching with his maimed hand. "You mentioned the name of the Colonel de Casimir. It was that which recalled to my mind . . . " He paused, and produced a letter carefully sealed. He turned it over, glancing at the seals with a reproving jerk of the head, which conveyed as clearly as words a shameless confession that he had been frustrated by them . . . "this letter. I was told to give it you, without fail, at the right moment."
It could hardly be the case that he honestly thought this moment might be so described. But he gave the letter to Mathilde with a gesture of grim triumph. Perhaps he was thinking of the cellar in the Palace on the Petrovka at Moscow, and the treasure which he had found there.
"It is from the Colonel de Casimir," he said, "a clever
