"
"Thank you, sir," said Grace. "It is very kind of you to try and
help me, but it is useless. They won't even listen to me." She
attempted to rise from her chair as she pronounced the last
words. Julian gently laid his hand on her shoulder and obliged
her to resume her seat.
"_I_ will listen to you," he said. "You referred me just now to
the consul's letter. The consul tells me you suspected some one
of taking your papers and your clothes."
"I don't suspect," was the quick reply; "I am certain! I tell you
positively Mercy Merrick was the thief. She was alone with me
when I was struck down by the shell. She was the only person who
knew that I had letters of introduction about me. She confessed
to my face that she had been a bad woman--she had been in a
prison--she had come out of a refuge--"
Julian stopped her there with one plain question, which threw a
doubt on the whole story.
"The consul tells me you asked him to search for Mercy Merrick,"
he said. "Is it not true that he caused inquiries to be made, and
that no trace of any such person was to be heard of?"
"The consul took no pains to find her," Grace answered, angrily.
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