A Tantalizing Translation

Nancy understood French and could hardly wait to read the letter. Miss Owsler insisted that the young sleuth sit down and make herself comfortable on the overstuffed sofa, while she went to the kitchen and made them some tea.

As the elderly woman bustled off to the kitchen, Nancy eagerly perused the letter. It was dated March 23, 1797, from Brighton, England.

Dear Yvette,

I must write in haste in order that this letter may go aboard the mail packet before it sails. I regret to report that all our efforts have still failed to find your precious lost treasure so unhappily left behind by force of circumstance when you crossed the Channel from France three years ago. Wartime turmoil renders our search ever more difficult, hut do not despair! Our efforts will continue without cease! Meanwhile, my husband and I send our best wishes and hopes that you and Paul may find happiness in your new home in the United States.

Your loving sister, Charlotte

As she finished reading the letter, Nancy's thoughts raced back to last night's scene in the Thorpes' attic, when she and Lisa had found Yvette's wedding ring. Nancy was now more convinced than ever that her guess was right about Yvette's having been wed twice. If she had lived in France before marrying Paul, perhaps her previous marriage had occurred in that country, and her husband, Philippe, had died there before her crossing to England.

But what was the " lost treasure" referred to in the letter? And what had Louise Duval found out about it? Was that what the present mystery was all about, and what the various unknown parties in this case were hunting for?

Nancy barely had time to consider these questions when Miss Owsler came back with tea things on a tray.

" Now, dear, we'll have a nice cup of tea while we look through the album, " she said.

As they sat side by side on the sofa sipping their tea, with Miss Owsler turning the pages and commenting on the snapshots and other photographs, Nancy's thoughts were still occupied with the letter. She scarcely noticed the pictures as the former maid pointed them out.

But suddenly the woman exclaimed triumphantly. She was pointing to a photo of Louise Duval standing with a man in front of a building that looked like an old gristmill, of the kind still found in the Northeastern states.

" That's him! " Emily Owsler cried. " That's the man Miss Duval hired to do the research for her that summer just before she passed away! I remember his face now."

" Oh, wonderful! " Nancy could hardly believe her good luck, but realized she had better not congratulate herself too soon without more to go on. " Does seeing his picture by any chance remind you of his name? "

" Oh dear... let me see now." The elderly woman thought hard, then shook her head, looking crestfallen. " I'm afraid not, " she confessed, smiling wistfully. " I seem to have a hard time remembering names these days."

" My goodness, don't worry about that, " Nancy said with a gentle laugh. " So does everybody at some time or other. What about the place, though? That building looks like an old mill. Have you any idea where the picture may have been taken? "

Again Emily Owsler raked her memory but was forced to give up. " No, I'm afraid not, dear, " she said, shaking her head regretfully.

" Never mind, Miss Owsler. You've been a tremendous help! Would you mind letting me borrow this picture for a day or two? I'll be very careful with it."

" Yes, of course. Do take it. I hope it will help you solve your mystery case." And Emily Owsler began carefully peeling the glued photo from the album page.

After thanking the woman for the tea and the valuable discoveries they had just made, Nancy returned to her blue sports car parked in the street below.

She was eager to show the snapshot to Professor Crawford's daughter. But remembering the 3: 30 appointment at her dad's office with Lee Talbot and his attorney, Nancy curbed her impatience and turned her car toward the law office.

Driving along Main Street, she decided to stop at the River Heights Camera Shop and pick up her developed roll of film and pictures. They included an enlarged print of her photograph of the museum's painting.

With this safely in her purse, Nancy drove to the appointment in a slightly more confident frame of mind.

The teenage sleuth arrived at the office only moments after Lee Talbot and his lawyer had appeared. The artist, elegantly dressed as always, was so angry he was barely civil. Ignoring his rude manner, Carson Drew introduced Nancy to Talbot's small, sharp-featured attorney, and they all sat down.

Brushing aside Mr. Drew's efforts to set out the facts clearly and without bias, Aaron Locke belligerently began telling the Drews that Nancy had grievously wronged Lee Talbot and besmirched his reputation and character, and that the only problem to be resolved was how much should be paid to his client in damages.

" Well now, before we get to that, " Carson Drew's voice cut incisively through Locke's blustering speech, " let's get a few preliminary facts straight. What exactly does Mr. Talbot have to say regarding this alleged resemblance of his prize-winning painting to the picture in the museum? "

Lee Talbot glared haughtily at the distinguished lawyer. " I have nothing to say, sir! I've been to our local museum, naturally, and I may have seen the picture in question at some time or other. Perhaps there may even be some slight superficial resemblance. But any allegation of copying is ridiculous! "

" Very well, you've heard my client's answer, " Aaron Locke said in a hard voice. " Now then, are you going to settle..."

Before he could go any further, Nancy took the enlarged photograph of the museum painting out of her shoulder bag. Without a word, she handed it to Lee Talbot and his lawyer, who were sitting next to each other.

No words were needed. At sight of the photograph, the blond artist's mouth dropped open in shocked surprise, and the look on his lawyer's face froze in dismay. It was clear from their expressions that both had instantly realized how suspiciously alike the two painting were!

Nancy said quietly, " Of course I've said nothing yet to the police, Lee. But when they see the evidence, they might get the idea you had a motive for those museum break-ins... in other words, that you were trying to remove or destroy the original painting that would prove your plagiarism."

Lee Talbot's face had turned sickly pale. Nancy had chosen her words carefully, to see how he would respond. But his reaction had already convinced her that the artist was innocent and had not deliberately copied the museum work. More likely he had seen the picture at some time in the past, and its composition had impressed him so much that the image had lodged deep in his memory, and then emerged again in his own painting without conscious intent.

Talbot looked helplessly at Aaron Locke, who by now had lost all of his own bluster and aggressiveness. Both were silent, obviously at a loss for words.

Carson Drew stepped into the void. " Perhaps, Mr. Locke, you'd like time to consult with your client? "

The other attorney cleared his throat. " Tell you what, Counsellor. I'll call you tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can work something out." Aaron Locke had recovered his facade.

But Lee Talbot looked steadily at him, then at Nancy's father and. said, " No, Mr. Drew. We won't be calling you. I don't want—"

Locke hastily interrupted, " Now, now! We'll talk before coming to any decision." And, both having risen, he hustled the artist out the door.

Carson Drew smiled at Nancy. " I don't think we'll hear any more threats from those two. Congratulations! You handled that beautifully."

Nancy drove her father home that afternoon with a considerably lighter heart. She was looking forward to helping Hannah with dinner and was just putting on an apron in the kitchen when the phone rang. She answered it and heard the kindly baritone voice of Police Chief McGinnis.

" Hi, Nancy. Chief McGinnis here. I have a trace on that license number you gave me. The car belongs to a rental agency, and their records show it was signed out to a French tourist, a man named Andre Freneau."

Nancy felt a thrill of satisfaction. At last she had identified her swarthy shadow! " I don't suppose you'd know if he has any criminal record? "

" That's the next step, Nancy. I've already put through a request for information on him to Interpol. But it may take time. I'll get back to you as soon as I learn anything."

After thanking the police chief, Nancy went back to her salad making. She had no sooner finished washing the lettuce and the escarole when the telephone rang again.

'I’ll get it, Hannah, " Nancy said, drying her hands. " I've a feeling it's for me, anyway."

She was right. The caller was Mr. Gregory, the museum curator.

" I've just had a talk with that New York art expert I mentioned, Nancy, " Mr. Gregory reported. " He's a specialist in French art of the period around 1800. In his opinion, our museum painting by Antoine Grivet is almost certainly a portrait of a French nobleman, the Comte d'Auvergne! "