And, as he spoke, for the first time Pierre started, turning an eager gaze toward the box.
"Yes, it's empty," said the duke.

"The necklace isn't there, is it?
Now, tell me all about it, or I'll put a bullet through your head!" Then the story came: disentangled from the excuses and prayers, it was simply that Pierre was no footman but a noted thief--that he had long meditated an attack on the Cardinal's Necklace; had made Lafleur's acquaintance in Paris, corrupted his facile virtue, and, with the aid of forged testimonials, presented himself in the character in which I had first made his acquaintance.

The rascals had counted on the duke's preoccupation with Marie Delhasse for their opportunity.

The duke smiled to hear it.

Pierre listened to the whole story without a word of protest or denial; his accomplice's cowardly attempt to present him as the only culprit gained no more notice than another shrug and a softly muttered oath.