A thorough search was instantly made; but neither around the room, nor behind the furniture, nor upon the gallery roof, were any traces to be found of the lost Frolic.

“It is too bad,” cried Eric, in perplexity, while Johnny looked ready to cry. “We must speak to the landlord, and ask him what we are to do.”

Eric’s German was by no means perfect; but he managed to make the good-natured landlord understand their trouble. He made inquiries of all, directly; but no one had seen the little monkey since the boys had left her. He did not think it at all likely that she had been stolen, for no one could get to the boys’ room without being noticed by some of the servants, and he was quite sure that she would return safely to her comfortable quarters; so he advised the boys to leave the window open for her, and to go at once to the dinner he had been for some time keeping for them.

His sensible advice was unwillingly followed; but Froll took no advantage of the window left open for her benefit.

Eric and Johnny waited and watched impatiently, until it was almost time to start for the train. Then Eric left directions with the landlord, in case the monkey should be found and captured; promising to send for her. He was just going to call Johnny, when he heard his voice, crying, excitedly, “Eric, Eric!” and hoping Froll had returned, ran quickly up the stairs.

“See there, what I found on the floor,” exclaimed Johnny, as he entered the room, and held up before Eric’s astonished gaze a jewelled ring, that flashed and sparkled in the sunlight.

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Eric; “on the floor of this room?”

“Yes,” answered Johnny, “on the floor, just where you’re standing. It’s a mercy we haven’t stepped on it. Don’t you think so?”

“We must find the owner at once. Isn’t it splendid!” said Eric, admiringly; “three diamonds and an emerald; it must have cost a fortune.”

Just at this juncture the door opened, and the landlord, followed by a French officer and a civilian, entered the room. The landlord exclaimed, in German,—

“I beg your pardon, young gentlemen, but a serious loss has occurred in the house, and as you are about leaving it, perhaps you will be kind enough to let us inspect—”

“Ah! mon Dieu! il y ait!”[1] screamed the French civilian, darting towards Eric and John, and, snatching the ring from Johnny’s hand, displayed it triumphantly before the landlord and the officer.

“I found it on the floor,” said Johnny. “Is it yours?”

“A likely story!” muttered the Frenchman.

“I’m very glad you’ve got it,” said Eric, with dignity. “My cousin found it on the floor a minute ago, and we were on the point of taking it to the landlord when you came in.”

Eric spoke slowly and distinctly, and with an air of honest truth that at once convinced the landlord. But the excitable little Frenchman, who had been clasping the precious ring, and murmuring, “Ciel, ciel! ah, ciel!” in an incoherent way, now sprang at Eric, and grasping him by the collar, exclaimed, angrily, “O, you fine fellow! you wicked one! where is my—my gold?—my gold? where is it?” and he gave the boy a series of shakes.

Eric’s anger was fully aroused. With flashing eyes, “How dare you!” he said, indignantly, and, turning upon the Frenchman, flung him with some violence against the wall.

This made the little Frenchman still more furious; he would have sprung again upon Eric, but the officer interfered. Johnny, with his eyes almost starting from his head, had terrifiedly regarded this little scene, doubling his fists to aid in Eric’s rescue.

Eric turned indignantly to the landlord,—

“What is the meaning of all this? Are two defenceless American boys, your guests, to be openly insulted in your presence without protection?”

“Count D’Orsay has been robbed of his diamond ring and a sum of money,” explained the landlord. “He insisted that no person should leave the hotel without examination. That is why we came to you. He has found the ring in your hands, which is very astonishing, and he now suspects you of having the gold.”

The landlord spoke gently, and seemed grieved to be obliged to hurt their feelings, as he knew his implied meaning must.

Poor Eric’s face flushed hotly with shame and anger, while Johnny cried, furiously, “Eric, Eric, for pity’s sake send for papa! He will teach that hateful Frenchman what it is to call us thieves.”

“Be quiet, John!” said Eric, imperiously. “Come here.”

“Now, sir,” turning to the landlord, “please to let your officer search us, and then our baggage. Do it at once, for we are to leave Strasbourg directly.”

“Indeed!” sneered Count D’Orsay. “Perhaps you will not leave Strasbourg for the present. Search them, officer.”

The officer advanced reluctantly, and, by his expression of sympathy, showed himself much more a gentleman than the titled count, whose habitual politeness had been driven away by Eric’s powerful thrust.

The landlord, although deeply sympathetic, and convinced of their honesty, was powerless to resist Count D’Orsay. He was a German innholder, and the count a wealthy, influential French nobleman, with a proper warrant for searching his house. So he could in no way protect the boys from the indignity put upon them. But he hailed with joy Johnny’s suggestion to send for his father, deciding to do so at once, if they should be detained.

Of course no gold was found upon either of them, except that given to Eric for tickets and hotel expenses, and none was found in their baggage.

But just as they were preparing to leave the place, having been released by the officer, Count D’Orsay uttered an exclamation, and pointed to a fauteuil—an easy chair—by the window.

“Celui-lÀ!”

The officer stepped to the chair, and found, tucked between the cushion and the arm, a silk purse, full of gold pieces.

Eric and Johnny were horror-stricken, and the good landlord was dumb with astonishment.

The French count held up the purse triumphantly, and jingled the gold before Eric’s eyes, exclaiming, tauntingly,—

“It is mine, and I have it. The prison is yours, and you shall have it.”

“Eric, Eric,” cried Johnny, in agony of terror, “they can’t send us to prison. We haven’t done anything. We didn’t know the money was there, or the ring. O, what shall we do? Send for papa!”

Eric’s face was very white, and his hand trembled visibly, as he wrote his uncle’s address on a card, and requested the landlord to send for him.

Count D’Orsay wished them to be at once conducted to prison: but this the landlord would not allow, and the officer declared was unnecessarily severe. They might remain in their room, with a guard, and the landlord would be responsible for their remaining.

As soon as the detestable Frenchman had gone, Johnny threw himself at full length upon the floor, crying violently. Eric could not comfort him, but sat at the window, with a proud, defiant face and swelling heart.

Presently the kind landlord came again to them.

He had sent word by telegraph to Johnny’s father, and received a return message. Mr. Van Rasseulger would be with them by night.

This was comforting. And gradually the boys thought less and less of their trouble, and became quite interested in making conjectures with the landlord as to when and how the money and jewels came into their room, and if Froll’s disappearance could be owing to the same cause, or in any way connected with it, and if she would probably return at night.

“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good,” said Eric; “and perhaps, by being detained here, we shall find her.”

“I don’t care what they do when papa gets here,” said Johnny, whose faith in his father’s power was limitless. “He’ll just fix that Count D’Orsay.”

Meanwhile Mr. Van Rasseulger was whizzing rapidly towards them in the afternoon train, and another powerful friend was coming from an opposite direction.