I recollect that I smiled--nay, I believe that I laughed--for the man was my old acquaintance Pierre--and Pierre was still on the track of the Cardinal's Necklace; and he had not doubted, any more than I had doubted, that the duke carried it upon his person.

Yet Pierre found it not, for he was growing angry now; he seemed to worry the still body, pushing it and tossing the arms of it to and fro as a puppy tosses a slipper or a cushion.

And all the while the unconscious face of the Duke of Saint-Maclou was turned up to heaven, and a stiff smile seemed to mock the baffled plunderer.

And I also wondered where the necklace was.
Then I let myself down on to the noiseless sands and stole across to the spot where the pair were.

Pierre's hands were searching desperately and wildly now; he no longer expected to find, but he could not yet believe that the search was in very truth in vain.