Dauvray ?" "Her companion," said Wethermill, "the young English girl--she is a great friend of mine." Hanaud's face grew stern.

Then came a sparkle of anger in his eyes.
"And what do you wish me to do, monsieur ?" he asked coldly.
"You are upon your holiday, M.Hanaud.I wish you--no, I implore you," Wethermill cried, his voice ringing with passion, "to take up this case, to discover the truth, to find out what has become of Celia." Hanaud leaned back in his chair with his hands upon the arms.

He did not take his eyes from Harry Wethermill, but the anger died out of them.
"Monsieur," he said, "I do not know what your procedure is in England.
But in France a detective does not take up a case or leave it alone according to his pleasure.

We are only servants.

This affair is in the hands of M.Fleuriot, the Juge d'lnstruction of Aix." "But if you offered him your help it would be welcomed," cried Wethermill.