the most positive manner, that you are descended from the Roussel family and that you consequently have every right to the Mornington inheritance."
"I?"
The cry was a spontaneous exclamation of astonishment and protest.
And she at once went on, insistently:
"I, a right to the inheritance? I have none at all, Monsieur le Préfet, none at all. I never knew Mr. Mornington. What is this story? There is some mistake."
She spoke with great animation and with an apparent frankness that would have impressed any other man than the Prefect of Police. But how could he forget Don Luis's arguments and the accusation made beforehand against the person who would arrive at the meeting?
"Give me the papers," he said.
She took from her handbag a blue envelope which was not fastened down and which he found to contain a number of faded documents, damaged at the folds and torn in different places.
He examined them amid perfect silence, read them through, studied them thoroughly, inspected the signatures and the seals through a magnifying glass, and said:
"They bear every sign of being genuine. The seals are official."
"Then, Monsieur le Préfet?" said Florence, in a trembling voice.
"Then, Mademoiselle, let me tell you that your ignorance strikes me as most incredible."
And, turning to the solicitor, he said:
"Listen briefly to what these documents contain and prove. Gaston Sauverand, Cosmo Mornington's heir in
