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diff --git a/11451-h/11451-h.htm b/11451-h/11451-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..51e9e0a --- /dev/null +++ b/11451-h/11451-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7285 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Rome Express, by Arthur Griffiths</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.caption {font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11451 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="462" height="650" alt="[Illustration]" /> +<p class="caption">“M. Floçon interposed with uplifted hand.”</p> +</div> + +<h1>The ROME EXPRESS</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By Arthur Griffiths</h2> + +<p class="center"> +With a frontispiece in colours By Arthur O. Scott +</p> + +<p class="center"> +1907 +</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>THE ROME EXPRESS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p> +The Rome Express, the <i>direttissimo</i>, or most direct, was approaching +Paris one morning in March, when it became known to the occupants of the +sleeping-car that there was something amiss, very much amiss, in the car. +</p> + +<p> +The train was travelling the last stage, between Laroche and Paris, a run of a +hundred miles without a stop. It had halted at Laroche for early breakfast, and +many, if not all the passengers, had turned out. Of those in the sleeping-car, +seven in number, six had been seen in the restaurant, or about the platform; +the seventh, a lady, had not stirred. All had reëntered their berths to sleep +or doze when the train went on, but several were on the move as it neared +Paris, taking their turn at the lavatory, calling for water, towels, making the +usual stir of preparation as the end of a journey was at hand. +</p> + +<p> +There were many calls for the porter, yet no porter appeared. At last the +attendant was found—lazy villain!—asleep, snoring loudly, stertorously, in his +little bunk at the end of the car. He was roused with difficulty, and set about +his work in a dull, unwilling, lethargic way, which promised badly for his tips +from those he was supposed to serve. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees all the passengers got dressed, all but two,—the lady in 9 and 10, +who had made no sign as yet; and the man who occupied alone a double berth next +her, numbered 7 and 8. +</p> + +<p> +As it was the porter’s duty to call every one, and as he was anxious, like the +rest of his class, to get rid of his travellers as soon as possible after +arrival, he rapped at each of the two closed doors behind which people +presumably still slept. +</p> + +<p> +The lady cried “All right,” but there was no answer from No. 7 and 8. +</p> + +<p> +Again and again the porter knocked and called loudly. Still meeting with no +response, he opened the door of the compartment and went in. +</p> + +<p> +It was now broad daylight. No blind was down; indeed, the one narrow window was +open, wide; and the whole of the interior of the compartment was plainly +visible, all and everything in it. +</p> + +<p> +The occupant lay on his bed motionless. Sound asleep? No, not merely asleep—the +twisted unnatural lie of the limbs, the contorted legs, the one arm drooping +listlessly but stiffly over the side of the berth, told of a deeper, more +eternal sleep. +</p> + +<p> +The man was dead. Dead—and not from natural causes. +</p> + +<p> +One glance at the blood-stained bedclothes, one look at the gaping wound in the +breast, at the battered, mangled face, told the terrible story. +</p> + +<p> +It was murder! murder most foul! The victim had been stabbed to the heart. +</p> + +<p> +With a wild, affrighted, cry the porter rushed out of the compartment, and to +the eager questioning of all who crowded round him, he could only mutter in +confused and trembling accents: +</p> + +<p> +“There! there! in there!” +</p> + +<p> +Thus the fact of the murder became known to every one by personal inspection, +for every one (even the lady had appeared for just a moment) had looked in +where the body lay. The compartment was filled for some ten minutes or more by +an excited, gesticulating, polyglot mob of half a dozen, all talking at once in +French, English, and Italian. +</p> + +<p> +The first attempt to restore order was made by a tall man, middle-aged, but +erect in his bearing, with bright eyes and alert manner, who took the porter +aside, and said sharply in good French, but with a strong English accent: +</p> + +<p> +“Here! it’s your business to do something. No one has any right to be in that +compartment now. There may be reasons—traces—things to remove; never mind what. +But get them all out. Be sharp about it; and lock the door. Remember you will +be held responsible to justice.” +</p> + +<p> +The porter shuddered, so did many of the passengers who had overheard the +Englishman’s last words. +</p> + +<p> +Justice! It is not to be trifled with anywhere, least of all in France, where +the uncomfortable superstition prevails that every one who can be reasonably +suspected of a crime is held to be guilty of that crime until his innocence is +clearly proved. +</p> + +<p> +All those six passengers and the porter were now brought within the category of +the accused. They were all open to suspicion; they, and they alone, for the +murdered man had been seen alive at Laroche, and the fell deed must have been +done since then, while the train was in transit, that is to say, going at +express speed, when no one could leave it except at peril of his life. +</p> + +<p> +“Deuced awkward for us!” said the tall English general, Sir Charles Collingham +by name, to his brother the parson, when he had reëntered their compartment and +shut the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t see it. In what way?” asked the Reverend Silas Collingham, a typical +English cleric, with a rubicund face and square-cut white whiskers, dressed in +a suit of black serge, and wearing the professional white tie. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, we shall be detained, of course; arrested, probably—certainly detained. +Examined, cross-examined, bully-ragged—I know something of the French police +and their ways.” +</p> + +<p> +“If they stop us, I shall write to the <i>Times</i>” cried his brother, by +profession a man of peace, but with a choleric eye that told of an angry +temperament. +</p> + +<p> +“By all means, my dear Silas, when you get the chance. That won’t be just yet, +for I tell you we’re in a tight place, and may expect a good deal of worry.” +With that he took out his cigarette-case, and his match-box, lighted his +cigarette, and calmly watched the smoke rising with all the coolness of an old +campaigner accustomed to encounter and face the ups and downs of life. “I only +hope to goodness they’ll run straight on to Paris,” he added in a fervent tone, +not unmixed with apprehension. “No! By jingo, we’re slackening speed—.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why shouldn’t we? It’s right the conductor, or chief of the train, or whatever +you call him, should know what has happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, man, can’t you see? While the train is travelling express, every one must +stay on board it; if it slows, it is possible to leave it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who would want to leave it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know,” said the General, rather testily. “Any way, the thing’s +done now.” +</p> + +<p> +The train had pulled up in obedience to the signal of alarm given by some one +in the sleeping-car, but by whom it was impossible to say. Not by the porter, +for he seemed greatly surprised as the conductor came up to him. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you know?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Know! Know what? You stopped me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who rang the bell, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not. But I’m glad you’ve come. There has been a crime—murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens!” cried the conductor, jumping up on to the car, and entering +into the situation at once. His business was only to verify the fact, and take +all necessary precautions. He was a burly, brusque, peremptory person, the +despotic, self-important French official, who knew what to do—as he thought—and +did it without hesitation or apology. +</p> + +<p> +“No one must leave the car,” he said in a tone not to be misunderstood. +“Neither now, nor on arrival at the station.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a shout of protest and dismay, which he quickly cut short. +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to arrange it with the authorities in Paris; they can alone +decide. My duty is plain: to detain you, place you under surveillance till +then. Afterwards, we will see. Enough, gentlemen and madame”— +</p> + +<p> +He bowed with the instinctive gallantry of his nation to the female figure +which now appeared at the door of her compartment. She stood for a moment +listening, seemingly greatly agitated, and then, without a word, disappeared, +retreating hastily into her own private room, where she shut herself in. +</p> + +<p> +Almost immediately, at a signal from the conductor, the train resumed its +journey. The distance remaining to be traversed was short; half an hour more, +and the Lyons station, at Paris, was reached, where the bulk of the +passengers—all, indeed, but the occupants of the sleeper—descended and passed +through the barriers. The latter were again desired to keep their places, while +a posse of officials came and mounted guard. Presently they were told to leave +the car one by one, but to take nothing with them. All their hand-bags, rugs, +and belongings were to remain in the berths, just as they lay. One by one they +were marched under escort to a large and bare waiting-room, which had, no +doubt, been prepared for their reception. +</p> + +<p> +Here they took their seats on chairs placed at wide intervals apart, and were +peremptorily forbidden to hold any communication with each other, by word or +gesture. This order was enforced by a fierce-looking guard in blue and red +uniform, who stood facing them with his arms folded, gnawing his moustache and +frowning severely. +</p> + +<p> +Last of all, the porter was brought in and treated like the passengers, but +more distinctly as a prisoner. He had a guard all to himself; and it seemed as +though he was the object of peculiar suspicion. It had no great effect upon +him, for, while the rest of the party were very plainly sad, and a prey to +lively apprehension, the porter sat dull and unmoved, with the stolid, +sluggish, unconcerned aspect of a man just roused from sound sleep and +relapsing into slumber, who takes little notice of what is passing around. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the sleeping-car, with its contents, especially the corpse of the +victim, was shunted into a siding, and sentries were placed on it at both ends. +Seals had been affixed upon the entrance doors, so that the interior might be +kept inviolate until it could be visited and examined by the Chef de la Surêté, +or Chief of the Detective Service. Every one and everything awaited the arrival +of this all-important functionary. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p> +M. Floçon, the Chief, was an early man, and he paid a first visit to his office +about 7 A.M. +</p> + +<p> +He lived just round the corner in the Rue des Arcs, and had not far to go to +the Prefecture. But even now, soon after daylight, he was correctly dressed, as +became a responsible ministerial officer. He wore a tight frock coat and an +immaculate white tie; under his arm he carried the regulation portfolio, or +lawyer’s bag, stuffed full of reports, dispositions, and documents dealing with +cases in hand. He was altogether a very precise and natty little personage, +quiet and unpretending in demeanour, with a mild, thoughtful face in which two +small ferrety eyes blinked and twinkled behind gold-rimmed glasses. But when +things went wrong, when he had to deal with fools, or when scent was keen, or +the enemy near, he would become as fierce and eager as any terrier. +</p> + +<p> +He had just taken his place at his table and begun to arrange his papers, +which, being a man of method, he kept carefully sorted by lots each in an old +copy of the <i>Figaro</i>, when he was called to the telephone. His services +were greatly needed, as we know, at the Lyons station and the summons was to +the following effect: +</p> + +<p> +“Crime on train No. 45. A man murdered in the sleeper. All the passengers held. +Please come at once. Most important.” +</p> + +<p> +A fiacre was called instantly, and M. Floçon, accompanied by Galipaud and +Block, the two first inspectors for duty, was driven with all possible speed +across Paris. +</p> + +<p> +He was met outside the station, just under the wide verandah, by the officials, +who gave him a brief outline of the facts, so far as they were known, and as +they have already been put before the reader. +</p> + +<p> +“The passengers have been detained?” asked M. Floçon at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Those in the sleeping-car only—” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut! they should have been all kept—at least until you had taken their +names and addresses. Who knows what they might not have been able to tell?” +</p> + +<p> +It was suggested that as the crime was committed presumably while the train was +in motion, only those in the one car could be implicated. +</p> + +<p> +“We should never jump to conclusions,” said the Chief snappishly. “Well, show +me the train card—the list of the travellers in the sleeper.” +</p> + +<p> +“It cannot be found, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible! Why, it is the porter’s business to deliver it at the end of the +journey to his superiors, and under the law—to us. Where is the porter? In +custody?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely, sir, but there is something wrong with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I should think! Nothing of this kind could well occur without his +knowledge. If he was doing his duty—unless, of course, he—but let us avoid +hasty conjectures.” +</p> + +<p> +“He has also lost the passengers’ tickets, which you know he retains till the +end of the journey. After the catastrophe, however, he was unable to lay his +hand upon his pocket-book. It contained all his papers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Worse and worse. There is something behind all this. Take me to him. Stay, can +I have a private room close to the other—where the prisoners, those held on +suspicion, are? It will be necessary to hold investigations, take their +depositions. M. le Juge will be here directly.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon was soon installed in a room actually communicating with the +waiting-room, and as a preliminary of the first importance, taking precedence +even of the examination of the sleeping-car, he ordered the porter to be +brought in to answer certain questions. +</p> + +<p> +The man, Ludwig Groote, as he presently gave his name, thirty-two years of age, +born at Amsterdam, looked such a sluggish, slouching, blear-eyed creature that +M. Floçon began by a sharp rebuke. +</p> + +<p> +“Now. Sharp! Are you always like this?” cried the Chief. +</p> + +<p> +The porter still stared straight before him with lack-lustre eyes, and made no +immediate reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you drunk? are you—Can it be possible?” he said, and in vague reply to a +sudden strong suspicion, he went on: +</p> + +<p> +“What were you doing between Laroche and Paris? Sleeping?” +</p> + +<p> +The man roused himself a little. “I think I slept. I must have slept. I was +very drowsy. I had been up two nights; but so it is always, and I am not like +this generally. I do not understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hah!” The Chief thought he understood. “Did you feel this drowsiness before +leaving Laroche?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur, I did not. Certainly not. I was fresh till then—quite fresh.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hum; exactly; I see;” and the little Chief jumped to his feet and ran round to +where the porter stood sheepishly, and sniffed and smelt at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes.” Sniff, sniff, sniff, the little man danced round and round him, +then took hold of the porter’s head with one hand, and with the other turned +down his lower eyelid so as to expose the eyeball, sniffed a little more, and +then resumed his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. And now, where is your train card?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon, monsieur, I cannot find it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is absurd. Where do you keep it? Look again—search—I must have it.” +</p> + +<p> +The porter shook his head hopelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“It is gone, monsieur, and my pocket-book.” +</p> + +<p> +“But your papers, the tickets—” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything was in it, monsieur. I must have dropped it.” +</p> + +<p> +Strange, very strange. However—the fact was to be recorded, for the moment. He +could of course return to it. +</p> + +<p> +“You can give me the names of the passengers?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur. Not exactly. I cannot remember, not enough to distinguish +between them.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Fichtre!</i> But this is most devilishly irritating. To think that I have +to do with a man so stupid—such an idiot, such an ass!” +</p> + +<p> +“At least you know how the berths were occupied, how many in each, and which +persons? Yes? You can tell me that? Well, go on. By and by we will have the +passengers in, and you can fix their places, after I have ascertained their +names. Now, please! For how many was the car?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sixteen. There were two compartments of four berths each, and four of two +berths each.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stay, let us make a plan. I will draw it. Here, now, is that right?” and the +Chief held up the rough diagram, here shown— +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<img src="images/img01.jpg" width="600" height="246" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<p> +“Here we have the six compartments. Now take <i>a</i>, with berths 1, 2, 3, and +4. Were they all occupied?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; only two, by Englishmen. I know that they talked English, which I +understand a little. One was a soldier; the other, I think, a clergyman, or +priest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! we can verify that directly. Now, <i>b</i>, with berths 5 and 6. Who was +there?” +</p> + +<p> +“One gentleman. I don’t remember his name. But I shall know him by appearance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go on. In <i>c</i>, two berths, 7 and 8?” +</p> + +<p> +“Also one gentleman. It was he who—I mean, that is where the crime occurred.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, indeed, in 7 and 8? Very well. And the next, 9 and 10?” +</p> + +<p> +“A lady. Our only lady. She came from Rome.” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment. Where did the rest come from? Did any embark on the road?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur; all the passengers travelled through from Rome.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dead man included? Was he Roman?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I cannot say, but he came on board at Rome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. This lady—she was alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the compartment, yes. But not altogether.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not understand!” +</p> + +<p> +“She had her servant with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“In the car?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not in the car. As a passenger by second class. But she came to her +mistress sometimes, in the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“For her service, I presume?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, yes, monsieur, when I would permit it. But she came a little too often, +and I was compelled to protest, to speak to Madame la Comtesse—” +</p> + +<p> +“She was a countess, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“The maid addressed her by that title. That is all I know. I heard her.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did you see the lady’s maid last?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last night. I think at Amberieux. about 8 p.m.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, I am quite sure of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at Laroche? She did not come on board to stay, for the last stage, when +her mistress would be getting up, dressing, and likely to require her?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I should not have permitted it.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where is the maid now, d’you suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +The porter looked at him with an air of complete imbecility. +</p> + +<p> +“She is surely somewhere near, in or about the station. She would hardly desert +her mistress now,” he said, stupidly, at last. +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate we can soon settle that.” The Chief turned to one of his +assistants, both of whom had been standing behind him all the time, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Step out, Galipaud, and see. No, wait. I am nearly as stupid as this +simpleton. Describe this maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tall and slight, dark-eyed, very black hair. Dressed all in black, plain black +bonnet. I cannot remember more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Find her, Galipaud—keep your eye on her. We may want her—why, I cannot say, as +she seems disconnected with the event, but still she ought to be at hand.” +Then, turning to the porter, he went on. “Finish, please. You said 9 and 10 was +the lady’s. Well, 11 and 12?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was vacant all through the run.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the last compartment, for four?” +</p> + +<p> +“There were two berths, occupied both by Frenchmen, at least so I judged them. +They talked French to each other and to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then now we have them all. Stand aside, please, and I will make the passengers +come in. We will then determine their places and affix their names from their +own admissions. Call them in, Block, one by one.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p> +The questions put by M. Floçon were much the same in every case, and were +limited in this early stage of the inquiry to the one point of identity. +</p> + +<p> +The first who entered was a Frenchman. He was a jovial, fat-faced, portly man, +who answered to the name of Anatole Lafolay, and who described himself as a +traveller in precious stones. The berth he had occupied was No. 13 in +compartment <i>f</i>. His companion in the berth was a younger man, smaller, +slighter, but of much the same stamp. His name was Jules Devaux, and he was a +commission agent. His berth had been No. 15 in the same compartment, <i>f</i>. +Both these Frenchmen gave their addresses with the names of many people to whom +they were well known, and established at once a reputation for respectability +which was greatly in their favour. +</p> + +<p> +The third to appear was the tall, gray-headed Englishman, who had taken a +certain lead at the first discovery of the crime. He called himself General Sir +Charles Collingham, an officer of her Majesty’s army; and the clergyman who +shared the compartment was his brother, the Reverend Silas Collingham, rector +of Theakstone-Lammas, in the county of Norfolk. Their berths were numbered 1 +and 4 in <i>a</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Before the English General was dismissed, he asked whether he was likely to be +detained. +</p> + +<p> +“For the present, yes,” replied M. Floçon, briefly. He did not care to be asked +questions. That, under the circumstances, was his business. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I should like to communicate with the British Embassy.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are known there?” asked the detective, not choosing to believe the story +at first. It might be a ruse of some sort. +</p> + +<p> +“I know Lord Dufferin personally; I was with him in India. Also Colonel +Papillon, the military attaché; we were in the same regiment. If I sent to the +Embassy, the latter would, no doubt, come himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you propose to send?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is for you to decide. All I wish is that it should be known that my +brother and I are detained under suspicion, and incriminated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly that, Monsieur le General. But it shall be as you wish. We will +telephone from here to the post nearest the Embassy to inform his Excellency—” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, Lord Dufferin, and my friend, Colonel Papillon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what has occurred. And now, if you will permit me to proceed?” +</p> + +<p> +So the single occupant of the compartment <i>b</i>, that adjoining the +Englishmen, was called in. He was an Italian, by name Natale Ripaldi; a +dark-skinned man, with very black hair and a bristling black moustache. He wore +a long dark cloak of the Inverness order, and, with the slouch hat he carried +in his hand, and his downcast, secretive look, he had the rather conventional +aspect of a conspirator. +</p> + +<p> +“If monsieur permits,” he volunteered to say after the formal questioning was +over, “I can throw some light on this catastrophe.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how so, pray? Did you assist? Were you present? If so, why wait to speak +till now?” said the detective, receiving the advance rather coldly. It behooved +him to be very much on his guard. +</p> + +<p> +“I have had no opportunity till now of addressing any one in authority. You are +in authority, I presume?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am the Chief of the Detective Service.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, monsieur, remember, please, that I can give some useful information when +called upon. Now, indeed, if you will receive it.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon was so anxious to approach the inquiry without prejudice that he put +up his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“We will wait, if you please. When M. le Juge arrives, then, perhaps; at any +rate, at a later stage. That will do now, thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +The Italian’s lip curled with a slight indication of contempt at the French +detective’s methods, but he bowed without speaking, and went out. +</p> + +<p> +Last of all the lady appeared, in a long sealskin travelling cloak, and closely +veiled. She answered M. Floçon’s questions in a low, tremulous voice, as though +greatly perturbed. +</p> + +<p> +She was the Contessa di Castagneto, she said, an Englishwoman by birth; but her +husband had been an Italian, as the name implied, and they resided in Rome. He +was dead—she had been a widow for two or three years, and was on her way now to +London. +</p> + +<p> +“That will do, madame, thank you,” said the detective, politely, “for the +present at least.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, are we likely to be detained? I trust not.” Her voice became appealing, +almost piteous. Her hands, restlessly moving, showed how much she was +distressed. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Madame la Comtesse, it must be so. I regret it infinitely; but until +we have gone further into this, have elicited some facts, arrived at some +conclusions—But there, madame, I need not, must not say more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, monsieur, I was so anxious to continue my journey. Friends are awaiting me +in London. I do hope—I most earnestly beg and entreat you to spare me. I am not +very strong; my health is indifferent. Do, sir, be so good as to release me +from—” +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke, she raised her veil, and showed what no woman wishes to hide, +least of all when seeking the good-will of one of the opposite sex. She had a +handsome face—strikingly so. Not even the long journey, the fatigue, the +worries and anxieties which had supervened, could rob her of her marvellous +beauty. +</p> + +<p> +She was a brilliant brunette, dark-skinned; but her complexion was of a clear, +pale olive, and as soft, as lustrous as pure ivory. Her great eyes, of a deep +velvety brown, were saddened by near tears. She had rich red lips, the only +colour in her face, and these, habitually slightly apart, showed pearly-white +glistening teeth. +</p> + +<p> +It was difficult to look at this charming woman without being affected by her +beauty. M. Floçon was a Frenchman, gallant and impressionable; yet he steeled +his heart. A detective must beware of sentiment, and he seemed to see something +insidious in this appeal, which he resented. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame, it is useless,” he answered gruffly. “I do not make the law; I have +only to support it. Every good citizen is bound to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I trust I am a good citizen,” said the Countess, with a wan smile, but very +wearily. “Still, I should wish to be let off now. I have suffered greatly, +terribly, by this horrible catastrophe. My nerves are quite shattered. It is +too cruel. However, I can say no more, except to ask that you will let my maid +come to me.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon, still obdurate, would not even consent to that. +</p> + +<p> +“I fear, madame, that for the present at least you cannot be allowed to +communicate with any one, not even with your maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“But she is not implicated; she was not in the car. I have not seen her since—” +</p> + +<p> +“Since?” repeated M. Floçon, after a pause. +</p> + +<p> +“Since last night, at Amberieux, about eight o’clock. She helped me to undress, +and saw me to bed. I sent her away then, and said I should not need her till we +reached Paris. But I want her now, indeed I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“She did not come to you at Laroche?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Have I not said so? The porter,”—here she pointed to the man, who stood +staring at her from the other side of the table,—“he made difficulties about +her being in the car, saying that she came too often, stayed too long, that I +must pay for her berth, and so on. I did not see why I should do that; so she +stayed away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Except from time to time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the last time was at Amberieux?” +</p> + +<p> +“As I have told you, and he will tell you the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, madame, that will do.” The Chief rose from his chair, plainly +intimating that the interview was at an end. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p> +He had other work to do, and was eager to get at it. So he left Block to show +the Countess back to the waiting-room, and, motioning to the porter that he +might also go, the Chief hastened to the sleeping-car, the examination of +which, too long delayed, claimed his urgent attention. +</p> + +<p> +It is the first duty of a good detective to visit the actual theatre of a crime +and overhaul it inch by inch,—seeking, searching, investigating, looking for +any, even the most insignificant, traces of the murderer’s hands. +</p> + +<p> +The sleeping-car, as I have said, had been side-tracked, its doors were sealed, +and it was under strict watch and ward. But everything, of course, gave way +before the detective, and, breaking through the seals, he walked in, making +straight for the little room or compartment where the body of the victim still +lay untended and absolutely untouched. +</p> + +<p> +It was a ghastly sight, although not new in M. Floçon’s experience. There lay +the corpse in the narrow berth, just as it had been stricken. It was partially +undressed, wearing only shirt and drawers. The former lay open at the chest, +and showed the gaping wound that had, no doubt, caused death, probably +instantaneous death. But other blows had been struck; there must have been a +struggle, fierce and embittered, as for dear life. The savage truculence of the +murderer had triumphed, but not until he had battered in the face, destroying +features and rendering recognition almost impossible. +</p> + +<p> +A knife had given the mortal wound; that was at once apparent from the shape of +the wound. It was the knife, too, which had gashed and stabbed the face, almost +wantonly; for some of these wounds had not bled, and the plain inference was +that they had been inflicted after life had sped. M. Floçon examined the body +closely, but without disturbing it. The police medical officer would wish to +see it as it was found. The exact position, as well as the nature of the +wounds, might afford evidence as to the manner of death. +</p> + +<p> +But the Chief looked long, and with absorbed, concentrated interest, at the +murdered man, noting all he actually saw, and conjecturing a good deal more. +</p> + +<p> +The features of the mutilated face were all but unrecognizable, but the hair, +which was abundant, was long, black, and inclined to curl; the black moustache +was thick and drooping. The shirt was of fine linen, the drawers silk. On one +finger were two good rings, the hands were clean, the nails well kept, and +there was every evidence that the man did not live by manual labour. He was of +the easy, cultured class, as distinct from the workman or operative. +</p> + +<p> +This conclusion was borne out by his light baggage, which still lay about the +berth,—hat-box, rugs, umbrella, brown morocco hand-bag. All were the property +of some one well to do, or at least possessed of decent belongings. One or two +pieces bore a monogram, “F.Q.,” the same as on the shirt and under-linen; but +on the bag was a luggage label, with the name, “Francis Quadling, passenger to +Paris,” in full. Its owner had apparently no reason to conceal his name. More +strangely, those who had done him to death had been at no pains to remove all +traces of his identity. +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon opened the hand-bag, seeking for further evidence; but found nothing +of importance,—only loose collars, cuffs, a sponge and slippers, two Italian +newspapers of an earlier date. No money, valuables, or papers. All these had +been removed probably, and presumably, by the perpetrator of the crime. +</p> + +<p> +Having settled the first preliminary but essential points, he next surveyed the +whole compartment critically. Now, for the first time, he was struck with the +fact that the window was open to its full height. Since when was this? It was a +question to be put presently to the porter and any others who had entered the +car, but the discovery drew him to examine the window more closely, and with +good results. +</p> + +<p> +At the ledge, caught on a projecting point on the far side, partly in, partly +out of the car, was a morsel of white lace, a scrap of feminine apparel; +although what part, or how it had come there, was not at once obvious to M. +Floçon. A long and minute inspection of this bit of lace, which he was careful +not to detach as yet from the place in which he found it, showed that it was +ragged, and frayed, and fast caught where it hung. It could not have been blown +there by any chance air; it must have been torn from the article to which it +belonged, whatever that might be,—head-dress, nightcap, night-dress, or +handkerchief. The lace was of a kind to serve any of these purposes. +</p> + +<p> +Inspecting further, M. Floçon made a second discovery. On the small table under +the window was a short length of black jet beading, part of the trimming or +ornamentation of a lady’s dress. +</p> + +<p> +These two objects of feminine origin—one partly outside the car, the other near +it, but quite inside—gave rise to many conjectures. It led, however, to the +inevitable conclusion that a woman had been at some time or other in the berth. +M. Floçon could not but connect these two finds with the fact of the open +window. The latter might, of course, have been the work of the murdered man +himself at an earlier hour. Yet it is unusual, as the detective imagined, for a +passenger, and especially an Italian, to lie under an open window in a +sleeping-berth when travelling by express train before daylight in March. +</p> + +<p> +Who opened that window, then, and why? Perhaps some further facts might be +found on the outside of the car. With this idea, M. Floçon left it, and passed +on to the line or permanent way. +</p> + +<p> +Here he found himself a good deal below the level of the car. These sleepers +have no foot-boards like ordinary carriages; access to them is gained from a +platform by the steps at each end. The Chief was short of stature, and he could +only approach the window outside by calling one of the guards and ordering him +to make the small ladder (<i>faire la petite echelle</i>). This meant stooping +and giving a back, on which little M. Floçon climbed nimbly, and so was raised +to the necessary height. +</p> + +<p> +A close scrutiny revealed nothing unusual. The exterior of the car was +encrusted with the mud and dust gathered in the journey, none of which appeared +to have been disturbed. +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon reëntered the carriage neither disappointed nor pleased; his mind was +in an open state, ready to receive any impressions, and as yet only one that +was at all clear and distinct was borne in on him. +</p> + +<p> +This was the presence of the lace and the jet beads in the theatre of the +crime. The inference was fair and simple. He came logically and surely to this: +</p> + +<p> +1. That some woman had entered the compartment. +</p> + +<p> +2. That whether or not she had come in before the crime, she was there after +the window had been opened, which was not done by the murdered man. +</p> + +<p> +3. That she had leaned out, or partly passed out, of the window at some time or +other, as the scrap of lace testified. +</p> + +<p> +4. Why had she leaned out? To seek some means of exit or escape, of course. +</p> + +<p> +But escape from whom? from what? The murderer? Then she must know him, and +unless an accomplice (if so, why run from him?), she would give up her +knowledge on compulsion, if not voluntarily, as seemed doubtful, seeing she +(his suspicions were consolidating) had not done so already. +</p> + +<p> +But there might be another even stronger reason to attempt escape at such +imminent risk as leaving an express train at full speed. To escape from her own +act and the consequences it must entail—escape from horror first, from +detection next, and then from arrest and punishment. +</p> + +<p> +All this would imperiously impel even a weak woman to face the worst peril, to +look out, lean out, even try the terrible but impossible feat of climbing out +of the car. +</p> + +<p> +So M. Floçon, by fair process of reasoning, reached a point which incriminated +one woman, the only woman possible, and that was the titled, high-bred lady who +called herself the Contessa di Castagneto. +</p> + +<p> +This conclusion gave a definite direction to further search. Consulting the +rough plan which he had constructed to take the place of the missing train +card, he entered the compartment which the Countess had occupied, and which was +actually next door. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the tumbled, untidy condition of a sleeping-place but just vacated. +The sex and quality of its recent occupant were plainly apparent in the goods +and chattels lying about, the property and possessions of a delicate, well-bred +woman of the world, things still left as she had used them last—rugs still +unrolled, a pair of easy-slippers on the floor, the sponge in its waterproof +bag on the bed, brushes, bottles, button-hook, hand-glass, many things +belonging to the dressing-bag, not yet returned to that receptacle. The maid +was no doubt to have attended to all these, but as she had not come, they +remained unpacked and strewn about in some disorder. +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon pounced down upon the contents of the berth, and commenced an +immediate search for a lace scarf, or any wrap or cover with lace. +</p> + +<p> +He found nothing, and was hardly disappointed. It told more against the +Countess, who, if innocent, would have no reason to conceal or make away with a +possibly incriminating possession, the need for which she could not of course +understand. +</p> + +<p> +Next, he handled the dressing-bag, and with deft fingers replaced everything. +</p> + +<p> +Everything was forthcoming but one glass bottle, a small one, the absence of +which he noted, but thought of little consequence, till, by and by, he came +upon it under peculiar circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +Before leaving the car, and after walking through the other compartments, M. +Floçon made an especially strict search of the corner where the porter had his +own small chair, his only resting-place, indeed, throughout the journey. He had +not forgotten the attendant’s condition when first examined, and he had even +then been nearly satisfied that the man had been hocussed, narcotized, drugged. +</p> + +<p> +Any doubts were entirely removed by his picking up near the porter’s seat a +small silver-topped bottle and a handkerchief, both marked with coronet and +monogram, the last of which, although the letters were much interlaced and +involved, were decipherable as S.L.L.C. +</p> + +<p> +It was that of the Countess, and corresponded with the marks on her other +belongings. He put it to his nostril, and recognized at once by its smell that +it had contained tincture of laudanum, or some preparation of that drug. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p> +M. Floçon was an experienced detective, and he knew so well that he ought to be +on his guard against the most plausible suggestions, that he did not like to +make too much of these discoveries. Still, he was distinctly satisfied, if not +exactly exultant, and he went back towards the station with a strong +predisposition against the Contessa di Castagneto. +</p> + +<p> +Just outside the waiting-room, however, his assistant, Galipaud, met him with +news which rather dashed his hopes, and gave a new direction to his thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +The lady’s maid was not to be found. +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible!” cried the Chief, and then at once suspicion followed surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I have looked, monsieur, inquired everywhere; the maid has not been seen. She +certainly is not here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she go through the barrier with the other passengers?” +</p> + +<p> +“No one knows; no one remembers her; not even the conductor. But she has gone. +That is positive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yet it was her duty to be here; to attend to her service. Her mistress would +certainly want her—has asked for her! Why should she run away?” +</p> + +<p> +This question presented itself as one of infinite importance, to be pondered +over seriously before he went further into the inquiry. +</p> + +<p> +Did the Countess know of this disappearance? +</p> + +<p> +She had asked imploringly for her maid. True, but might that not be a blind? +Women are born actresses, and at need can assume any part, convey any +impression. Might not the Countess have wished to be dissociated from the maid, +and therefore have affected complete ignorance of her flight? +</p> + +<p> +“I will try her further,” said M. Floçon to himself. +</p> + +<p> +But then, supposing that the maid had taken herself off of her own accord? Why +was it? Why had she done so? Because—because she was afraid of something. If +so, of what? No direct accusation could be brought against her on the face of +it. She had not been in the sleeping-car at the time of the murder, while the +Countess as certainly was; and, according to strong presumption, in the very +compartment where the deed was done. If the maid was afraid, why was she +afraid? +</p> + +<p> +Only on one possible hypothesis. That she was either in collusion with the +Countess, or possessed of some guilty knowledge tending to incriminate the +Countess and probably herself. She had run away to avoid any inconvenient +questioning tending to get her mistress into trouble, which would react +probably on herself. +</p> + +<p> +“We must press the Countess on this point closely; I will put it plainly to M. +le Juge,” said the detective, as he entered the private room set apart for the +police authorities, where he found M. Beaumont le Hardi, the instructing judge, +and the Commissary of the Quartier (arrondissement). +</p> + +<p> +A lengthy conference followed among the officials. M. Floçon told all he knew, +all he had discovered, gave his views with all the force and fluency of a +public prosecutor, and was congratulated warmly on the progress he had made. +</p> + +<p> +“I agree with you, sir,” said the instructing judge: “we must have in the +Countess first, and pursue the line indicated as regards the missing maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will fetch her, then. Stay, what can be going on in there?” cried M. Floçon, +rising from his seat and running into the outer waiting-room, which, to his +surprise and indignation, he found in great confusion. +</p> + +<p> +The guard who was on duty was struggling, in personal conflict almost, with the +English General. There was a great hubbub of voices, and the Countess was lying +back half-fainting in her chair. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all this? How dare you, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +This to the General, who now had the man by the throat with one hand and with +the other was preventing him from drawing his sword. “Desist—forbear! You are +opposing legal authority; desist, or I will call in assistance and will have +you secured and removed.” +</p> + +<p> +The little Chief’s blood was up; he spoke warmly, with all the force and +dignity of an official who sees the law outraged. +</p> + +<p> +“It is entirely the fault of this ruffian of yours; he has behaved most +brutally,” replied Sir Charles, still holding him tight. +</p> + +<p> +“Let him go, monsieur; your behaviour is inexcusable. What! you, a military +officer of the highest rank, to assault a sentinel! For shame! This is unworthy +of you!” +</p> + +<p> +“He deserves to be scragged, the beast!” went on the General, as with one sharp +turn of the wrist he threw the guard off, and sent him flying nearly across the +room, where, being free at last, the Frenchman drew his sword and brandished it +threateningly—from a distance. +</p> + +<p> +But M. Floçon interposed with uplifted hand and insisted upon an explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“It is just this,” replied Sir Charles, speaking fast and with much fierceness: +“that lady there—poor thing, she is ill, you can see that for yourself, +suffering, overwrought; she asked for a glass of water, and this brute, triple +brute, as you say in French, refused to bring it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could not leave the room,” protested the guard. “My orders were precise.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I was going to fetch the water,” went on the General angrily, eying the +guard as though he would like to make another grab at him, “and this fellow +interfered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very properly,” added M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +“Then why didn’t he go himself, or call some one? Upon my word, monsieur, you +are not to be complimented upon your people, nor your methods. I used to think +that a Frenchman was gallant, courteous, especially to ladies.” +</p> + +<p> +The Chief looked a little disconcerted, but remembering what he knew against +this particular lady, he stiffened and said severely, “I am responsible for my +conduct to my superiors, and not to you. Besides, you appear to forget your +position. You are here, detained—all of you”—he spoke to the whole room—“under +suspicion. A ghastly crime has been perpetrated—by some one among you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Do not be too sure of that,” interposed the irrepressible General. +</p> + +<p> +“Who else could be concerned? The train never stopped after leaving Laroche,” +said the detective, allowing himself to be betrayed into argument. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it did,” corrected Sir Charles, with a contemptuous laugh; “shows how +much you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the Chief looked unhappy. He was on dangerous ground, face to face with a +new fact affecting all his theories,—if fact it was, not mere assertion, and +that he must speedily verify. But nothing was to be gained—much, indeed, might +be lost—by prolonging this discussion in the presence of the whole party. It +was entirely opposed to the French practice of investigation, which works +secretly, taking witnesses separately, one by one, and strictly preventing all +intercommunication or collusion among them. +</p> + +<p> +“What I know or do not know is my affair,” he said, with an indifference he did +not feel. “I shall call upon you, M. le Général, for your statement in due +course, and that of the others.” He bowed stiffly to the whole room. “Every one +must be interrogated. M. le Juge is now here, and he proposes to begin, madame, +with you.” +</p> + +<p> +The Countess gave a little start, shivered, and turned very pale. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you see she is not equal to it?” cried the General, hotly. “She has not +yet recovered. In the name of—I do not say chivalry, for that would be +useless—but of common humanity, spare madame, at least for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is impossible, quite impossible. There are reasons why Madame la Comtesse +should be examined first. I trust, therefore, she will make an effort.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will try, if you wish it.” She rose from her chair and walked a few steps +rather feebly, then stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Countess, do not go,” said Sir Charles, hastily, in English, as he +moved across to where she stood and gave her his hand. “This is sheer cruelty, +sir, and cannot be permitted.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stand aside!” shouted M. Floçon; “I forbid you to approach that lady, to +address her, or communicate with her. Guard, advance, do your duty.” +</p> + +<p> +But the guard, although his sword was still out of its sheath, showed great +reluctance to move. He had no desire to try conclusions again with this very +masterful person, who was, moreover, a general; as he had seen service, he had +a deep respect for generals, even of foreign growth. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the General held his ground and continued his conversation with the +Countess, speaking still in English, thus exasperating M. Floçon, who did not +understand the language, almost to madness. +</p> + +<p> +“This is not to be borne!” he cried. “Here, Galipaud, Block;” and when his two +trusty assistants came rushing in, he pointed furiously to the General. “Seize +him, remove him by force if necessary. He shall go to the <i>violon</i>—to the +nearest lock-up.” +</p> + +<p> +The noise attracted also the Judge and the Commissary, and there were now six +officials in all, including the guard, all surrounding the General, a +sufficiently imposing force to overawe even the most recalcitrant fire-eater. +</p> + +<p> +But now the General seemed to see only the comic side of the situation, and he +burst out laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“What, all of you? How many more? Why not bring up cavalry and artillery, +horse, foot, and guns?” he asked, derisively. “All to prevent one old man from +offering his services to one weak woman! Gentlemen, my regards!” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Charles, I fear you are going too far,” said his brother the +clergyman, who, however, had been manifestly enjoying the whole scene. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, yes. It is not necessary, I assure you,” added the Countess, with +tears of gratitude in her big brown eyes. “I am most touched, most thankful. +You are a true soldier, a true English gentleman, and I shall never forget your +kindness.” Then she put her hand in his with a pretty, winning gesture that was +reward enough for any man. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the Judge, the senior official present, had learned exactly what had +happened, and he now addressed the General with a calm but stern rebuke. +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur will not, I trust, oblige us to put in force the full power of the +law. I might, if I chose, and as I am fully entitled, commit you at once to +Mazas, to keep you in solitary confinement. Your conduct has been deplorable, +well calculated to traverse and impede justice. But I am willing to believe +that you were led away, not unnaturally, as a gallant gentleman,—it is the +characteristic of your nation, of your cloth,—and that on more mature +consideration you will acknowledge and not repeat your error.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Beaumont le Hardi was a grave, florid, soft-voiced person, with a bald head +and a comfortably-lined white waistcoat; one who sought his ends by persuasion, +not force, but who had the instincts of a gentleman, and little sympathy with +the peremptory methods of his more inflammable colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, with all my heart, monsieur,” said Sir Charles, cordially. “You saw, or at +least know, how this has occurred. I did not begin it, nor was I the most to +blame. But I was in the wrong, I admit. What do you wish me to do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Give me your promise to abide by our rules,—they may be irksome, but we think +them necessary,—and hold no further converse with your companions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, certainly, monsieur,—at least after I have said one word more to +Madame la Comtesse.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, I cannot permit even that—” +</p> + +<p> +But Sir Charles, in spite of the warning finger held up by the Judge, insisted +upon crying out to her, as she was being led into the other room: +</p> + +<p> +“Courage, dear lady, courage. Don’t let them bully you. You have nothing to +fear.” +</p> + +<p> +Any further defiance of authority was now prevented by her almost forcible +removal from the room. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p> +The stormy episode just ended had rather a disturbing effect on M. Floçon, who +could scarcely give his full attention to all the points, old and new, that had +now arisen in the investigation. But he would have time to go over them at his +leisure, while the work of interrogation was undertaken by the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +The latter had taken his seat at a small table, and just opposite was his +<i>greffier</i>, or clerk, who was to write down question and answer, +<i>verbatim</i>. A little to one side, with the light full on the face, the +witness was seated, bearing the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes—the Judge +first, and behind him, those of the Chief Detective and the Commissary of +Police. +</p> + +<p> +“I trust, madame, that you are equal to answering a few questions?” began M. le +Hardi, blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I hope so. Indeed, I have no choice,” replied the Countess, bravely +resigned. +</p> + +<p> +“They will refer principally to your maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said the Countess, quickly and in a troubled voice, yet she bore the gaze +of the three officials without flinching. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to know a little more about her, if you please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. Anything I know I will tell you.” She spoke now with perfect +self-possession. “But if I might ask—why this interest?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you frankly. You asked for her, we sent for her, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” +</p> + +<p> +“She cannot be found. She is not in the station.” +</p> + +<p> +The Countess all but jumped from her chair in her surprise—surprise that seemed +too spontaneous to be feigned. +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible! it cannot be. She would not dare to leave me here like this, all +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Parbleu!</i> she has dared. Most certainly she is not here.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what can have become of her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, madame, what indeed? Can you form any idea? We hoped you might have been +able to enlighten us.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot, monsieur, not in the least.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perchance you sent her on to your hotel to warn your friends that you were +detained? To fetch them, perhaps, to you in your trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +The trap was neatly contrived, but she was not deceived. +</p> + +<p> +“How could I? I knew of no trouble when I saw her last.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, indeed? and when was that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last night, at Amberieux, as I have already told that gentleman.” She pointed +to M. Floçon, who was obliged to nod his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she has gone away somewhere. It does not much matter, still it is odd, +and for your sake we should like to help you to find her, if you do wish to +find her?” +</p> + +<p> +Another little trap which failed. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I hardly think she is worth keeping after this barefaced desertion.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, indeed. And she must be held to strict account for it, must justify it, +give her reasons. So we must find her for you—” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not at all anxious, really,” the Countess said, quickly, and the remark +told against her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now, Madame la Comtesse, as to her description. Will you tell us what +was her height, figure, colour of eyes, hair, general appearance?” +</p> + +<p> +“She was tall, above the middle height, at least; slight, good figure, black +hair and eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty?” +</p> + +<p> +“That depends upon what you mean by ‘pretty.’ Some people might think so, in +her own class.” +</p> + +<p> +“How was she dressed?” +</p> + +<p> +“In plain dark serge, bonnet of black straw and brown ribbons. I do not allow +my maid to wear colours.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. And her name, age, place of birth?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hortense Petitpré, thirty-two, born, I believe, in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +The Judge, when these particulars had been given, looked over his shoulder +towards the detective, but said nothing. It was quite unnecessary, for M. +Floçon, who had been writing in his note-book, now rose and left the room. He +called Galipaud to him, saying sharply: +</p> + +<p> +“Here is the more detailed description of the lady’s maid, and in writing. Have +it copied and circulate it at once. Give it to the station-master, and to the +agents of police round about here. I have an idea—only an idea—that this woman +has not gone far. It may be worth nothing, still there is the chance. People +who are wanted often hang about the very place they would <i>not</i> stay in if +they were wise. Anyhow, set a watch for her and come back here.” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, the Judge had continued his questioning. +</p> + +<p> +“And where, madame, did you obtain your maid?” +</p> + +<p> +“In Rome. She was there, out of a place. I heard of her at an agency and +registry office, when I was looking for a maid a month or two ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then she has not been long in your service?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; as I tell you, she came to me in December last.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well recommended?” +</p> + +<p> +“Strongly. She had lived with good families, French and English.” +</p> + +<p> +“And with you, what was her character?” +</p> + +<p> +“Irreproachable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, so much for Hortense Petitpré. She is not far off, I dare say. When we +want her we shall be able to lay hands on her, I do not doubt, madame may rest +assured.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray take no trouble in the matter. I certainly should not keep her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, very well. And now, another small matter. I see,” he referred to +the rough plan of the sleeping-car prepared by M. Floçon,—“I see that you +occupied the compartment <i>d</i>, with berths Nos. 9 and 10?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think 9 was the number of my berth.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was. You may be certain of that. Now next door to your compartment—do you +know who was next door? I mean in 7 and 8?” +</p> + +<p> +The Countess’s lip quivered, and she was a prey to sudden emotion as she +answered in a low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“It was where—where—” +</p> + +<p> +“There, there, madame,” said the Judge, reassuring her as he would a little +child. “You need not say. It is no doubt very distressing to you. Yet, you +know?” +</p> + +<p> +She bent her head slowly, but uttered no word. +</p> + +<p> +“Now this man, this poor man, had you noticed him at all? No—no—not afterwards, +of course. It would not be likely. But during the journey. Did you speak to +him, or he to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no—distinctly no.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor see him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I saw him, I believe, at Modane with the rest when we dined.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! exactly so. He dined at Modane. Was that the only occasion on which you +saw him? You had never met him previously in Rome, where you resided?” +</p> + +<p> +“Whom do you mean? The murdered man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who else?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not that I am aware of. At least I did not recognize him as a friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“I presume, if he was among your friends—” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, that he certainly was not,” interrupted the Countess. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, among your acquaintances—he would probably have made himself known to +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he did not do so? He never spoke to you, nor you to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw him, the occupant of that compartment, except on that one +occasion. I kept a good deal in my compartment during the journey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alone? It must have been very dull for you,” said the Judge, pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +“I was not always alone,” said the Countess, hesitatingly, and with a slight +flush. “I had friends in the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh—oh”—the exclamation was long-drawn and rather significant. +</p> + +<p> +“Who were they? You may as well tell us, madame, we should certainly find out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no wish to withhold the information,” she replied, now turning pale, +possibly at the imputation conveyed. “Why should I?” +</p> + +<p> +“And these friends were—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Charles Collingham and his brother. They came and sat with me +occasionally; sometimes one, sometimes the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“During the day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, during the day.” Her eyes flashed, as though the question was +another offence. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you known them long?” +</p> + +<p> +“The General I met in Roman society last winter. It was he who introduced his +brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, so far. The General knew you, took an interest in you. That +explains his strange, unjustifiable conduct just now—” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think it was either strange or unjustifiable,” interrupted the +Countess, hotly. “<i>He</i> is a gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite a <i>preux cavalier</i>, of course. But we will pass on. You are not a +good sleeper, I believe, madame?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed no, I sleep badly, as a rule.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you would be easily disturbed. Now, last night, did you hear anything +strange in the car, more particularly in the adjoining compartment?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“No sound of voices raised high, no noise of a conflict, a struggle?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is odd. I cannot understand it. We know, beyond all question, from the +appearance of the body,—the corpse,—that there was a fight, an encounter. Yet +you, a wretched sleeper, with only a thin plank of wood between you and the +affray, hear nothing, absolutely nothing. It is <i>most</i> extraordinary.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was asleep. I must have been asleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“A light sleeper would certainly be awakened. How can you explain—how can you +reconcile that?” The question was blandly put, but the Judge’s incredulity +verged upon actual insolence. +</p> + +<p> +“Easily: I had taken a soporific. I always do, on a journey. I am obliged to +keep something, sulphonal or chloral, by me, on purpose.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then this, madame, is yours?” And the Judge, with an air of undisguised +triumph, produced the small glass vial which M. Floçon had picked up in the +sleeping-car near the conductor’s seat. +</p> + +<p> +The Countess, with a quick gesture, put out her hand to take it. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I cannot give it up. Look as near as you like, and say is it yours?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is mine. Where did you get it? Not in my berth?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, madame, not in your berth.” +</p> + +<p> +“But where?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, we shall not tell you—not just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I missed it last night,” went on the Countess, slightly confused. +</p> + +<p> +“After you had taken your dose of chloral?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, before.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why did you want this? It is laudanum.” +</p> + +<p> +“For my nerves. I have a toothache. I—I—really, sir, I need not tell you all my +ailments.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the maid had removed it?” +</p> + +<p> +“So I presume; she must have taken it out of the bag in the first instance.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then kept it?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I can only suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p> +When the Judge had brought down the interrogation of the Countess to the +production of the small glass bottle, he paused, and with a long-drawn “Ah!” of +satisfaction, looked round at his colleagues. +</p> + +<p> +Both M. Floçon and the Commissary nodded their heads approvingly, plainly +sharing his triumph. +</p> + +<p> +Then they all put their heads together in close, whispered conference. +</p> + +<p> +“Admirable, M. le Juge!” said the detective. “You have been most adroit. It is +a clear case.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt,” said the Commissary, who was a blunt, rather coarse person, +believing that to take anybody and everybody into custody is always the safest +and simplest course. “It looks black against her. I think she ought to be +arrested at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“We might, indeed we ought to have more evidence, more definite evidence, +perhaps?” The Judge was musing over the facts as he knew them. “I should like, +before going further, to look at the car,” he said, suddenly coming to a +conclusion. +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon readily agreed. “We will go together,” he said, adding, “Madame will +remain here, please, until we return. It may not be for long.” +</p> + +<p> +“And afterwards?” asked the Countess, whose nervousness had if anything +increased during the whispered colloquy of the officials. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, afterwards! Who knows?” was the reply, with a shrug of the shoulders, all +most enigmatic and unsatisfactory. +</p> + +<p> +“What have we against her?” said the Judge, as soon as they had gained the +absolute privacy of the sleeping-car. +</p> + +<p> +“The bottle of laudanum and the porter’s condition. He was undoubtedly +drugged,” answered the detective; and the discussion which followed took the +form of a dialogue between them, for the Commissary took no part in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but why by the Countess? How do we know that positively?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is her bottle,” said M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +“Her story may be true—that she missed it, that the maid took it.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have nothing whatever against the maid. We know nothing about her.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Except that she has disappeared. But that tells more against her mistress. +It is all very vague. I do not see my way quite, as yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the fragment of lace, the broken beading? Surely, M. le Juge, they are a +woman’s, and only one woman was in the car—” +</p> + +<p> +“So far as we know.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if these could be proved to be hers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! if you could prove that!” +</p> + +<p> +“Easy enough. Have her searched, here at once, in the station. There is a +female searcher attached to the detention-room.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a strong measure. She is a lady.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ladies who commit crimes must not expect to be handled with kid gloves.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is an Englishwoman, or with English connections; titled, too. I hesitate, +upon my word. Suppose we are wrong? It may lead to unpleasantness. M. le Prefet +is anxious to avoid complications possibly international.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he bent over, and, taking a magnifier from his pocket, examined +the lace, which still fluttered where it was caught. +</p> + +<p> +“It is fine lace, I think. What say you, M. Floçon? You may be more experienced +in such matters.” +</p> + +<p> +“The finest, or nearly so; I believe it is Valenciennes—the trimming of some +underclothing, I should think. That surely is sufficient, M. le Juge?” +</p> + +<p> +M. Beaumont le Hardi gave a reluctant consent, and the Chief went back himself +to see that the searching was undertaken without loss of time. +</p> + +<p> +The Countess protested, but vainly, against this new indignity. What could she +do? A prisoner, practically friendless,—for the General was not within +reach,—to resist was out of the question. Indeed, she was plainly told that +force would be employed unless she submitted with a good grace. There was +nothing for it but to obey. +</p> + +<p> +Mother Tontaine, as the female searcher called herself, was an evil-visaged, +corpulent old creature, with a sickly, soft, insinuating voice, and a greasy, +familiar manner that was most offensive. They had given her the scrap of torn +lace and the débris of the jet as a guide, with very particular directions to +see if they corresponded with any part of the lady’s apparel. +</p> + +<p> +She soon showed her quality. +</p> + +<p> +“Aha! oho! What is this, my pretty princess? How comes so great a lady into the +hands of Mother Tontaine? But I will not harm you, my beauty, my pretty, my +little one. Oh, no, no, I will not trouble you, dearie. No, trust to me;” and +she held out one skinny claw, and looked the other way. The Countess did not or +would not understand. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame has money?” went on the old hag in a half-threatening, half-coaxing +whisper, as she came up quite close, and fastened on her victim like a bird of +prey. +</p> + +<p> +“If you mean that I am to bribe you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Fie, the nasty word! But just a small present, a pretty gift, one or two +yellow bits, twenty, thirty, forty francs—you’d better.” She shook the soft arm +she held roughly, and anything seemed preferable than to be touched by this +horrible woman. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, wait!” cried the Countess, shivering all over, and, feeling hastily for +her purse, she took out several napoleons. +</p> + +<p> +“Aha! oho! One, two, three,” said the searcher in a fat, wheedling voice. +“Four, yes, four, five;” and she clinked the coins together in her palm, while +a covetous light came into her faded eyes at the joyous sound. “Five—make it +five at once, d’ye hear me?—or I’ll call them in and tell them. That will go +against you, my princess. What, try to bribe a poor old woman, Mother Tontaine, +honest and incorruptible Tontaine? Five, then, five!” +</p> + +<p> +With trembling haste the Countess emptied the whole contents of her purse in +the old hag’s hand. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Bon aubaine</i>. Nice pickings. It is a misery what they pay me here. I am, +oh, so poor, and I have children, many babies. You will not tell them—the +police—you dare not. No, no, no.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus muttering to herself, she shambled across the room to a corner, where she +stowed the money safely away. Then she came back, showed the bit of lace, and +pressed it into the Countess’s hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know this, little one? Where it comes from, where there is much more? I +was told to look for it, to search for it on you;” and with a quick gesture she +lifted the edge of the Countess’s skirt, dropping it next moment with a low, +chuckling laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Oho! aha! You were right, my pretty, to pay me, my pretty—right. And some day, +to-day, to-morrow, whenever I ask you, you will remember Mother Tontaine.” +</p> + +<p> +The Countess listened with dismay. What had she done? Put herself into the +power of this greedy and unscrupulous old beldame? +</p> + +<p> +“And this, my princess? What have we here, aha?” +</p> + +<p> +Mère Tontaine held up next the broken bit of jet ornament for inspection, and +as the Countess leaned forward to examine it more closely, gave it into her +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You recognize it, of course. But be careful, my pretty! Beware! If any one +were looking, it would ruin you. I could not save you then. Sh! say nothing, +only look, and quick, give it me back. I must have it to show.” +</p> + +<p> +All this time the Countess was turning the jet over and over in her open palm, +with a perplexed, disturbed, but hardly a terrified air. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, she knew it, or thought she knew it. It had been—But how had it come here, +into the possession of this base myrmidon of the French police? +</p> + +<p> +“Give it me, quick!” There was a loud knock at the door. “They are coming. +Remember!” Mother Tontaine put her long finger to her lip. “Not a word! I have +found nothing, of course. Nothing, I can swear to that, and you will not forget +Mother Tontaine?” +</p> + +<p> +Now M. Floçon stood at the open door awaiting the searcher’s report. He looked +much disconcerted when the old woman took him on one side and briefly explained +that the search had been altogether fruitless. +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing to justify suspicion, nothing, so far as she could find. +</p> + +<p> +The detective looked from one to the other—from the hag he had employed in this +unpleasant quest, to the lady on whom it had been tried. The Countess, to his +surprise, did not complain. He had expected further and strong upbraidings. +Strange to say, she took it very quietly. There was no indignation in her face. +She was still pale, and her hands trembled, but she said nothing, made no +reference, at least, to what she had just gone through. +</p> + +<p> +Again he took counsel with his colleague, while the Countess was kept apart. +</p> + +<p> +“What next, M. Floçon?” asked the Judge. “What shall we do with her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let her go,” answered the detective, briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“What! do you suggest this, sir,” said the Judge, slyly. “After your strong and +well-grounded suspicions?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are as strong as ever, stronger: and I feel sure I shall yet justify +them. But what I wish now is to let her go at large, under surveillance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! you would shadow her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. By a good agent. Galipaud, for instance. He speaks English, and he +can, if necessary, follow her anywhere, even to England.” +</p> + +<p> +“She can be extradited,” said the Commissary, with his one prominent idea of +arrest. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you agree, M. le Juge? Then, if you will permit me, I will give the +necessary orders, and perhaps you will inform the lady that she is free to +leave the station?” +</p> + +<p> +The Countess now had reason to change her opinion of the French officials. +Great politeness now replaced the first severity that had been so cruel. She +was told, with many bows and apologies, that her regretted but unavoidable +detention was at an end. Not only was she freely allowed to depart, but she was +escorted by both M. Floçon and the Commissary outside, to where an omnibus was +in waiting, and all her baggage piled on top, even to the dressing-bag, which +had been neatly repacked for her. +</p> + +<p> +But the little silver-topped vial had not been restored to her, nor the +handkerchief. +</p> + +<p> +In her joy at her deliverance, either she had not given these a second thought, +or she did not wish to appear anxious to recover them. +</p> + +<p> +Nor did she notice that, as the bus passed through the gates at the bottom of +the large slope that leads from the Lyons Station, it was followed at a +discreet distance by a modest fiacre, which pulled up, eventually, outside the +Hôtel Madagascar. Its occupant, M. Galipaud, kept the Countess in sight, and, +entering the hotel at her heels, waited till she had left the office, when he +held a long conference with the proprietor. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p> +A first stage in the inquiry had now been reached, with results that seemed +promising, and were yet contradictory. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt the watch to be set on the Countess might lead to something +yet—something to bring first plausible suspicion to a triumphant issue; but the +examination of the other occupants of the car should not be allowed to slacken +on that account. The Countess might have some confederate among them—this +pestilent English General, perhaps, who had made himself so conspicuous in her +defence; or some one of them might throw light upon her movements, upon her +conduct during the journey. +</p> + +<p> +Then, with a spasm of self-reproach, M. Floçon remembered that two distinct +suggestions had been made to him by two of the travellers, and that, so far, he +had neglected them. One was the significant hint from the Italian that he could +materially help the inquiry. The other was the General’s sneering assertion +that the train had not continued its journey uninterruptedly between Laroche +and Paris. +</p> + +<p> +Consulting the Judge, and laying these facts before him, it was agreed that the +Italian’s offer seemed the most important, and he was accordingly called in +next. +</p> + +<p> +“Who and what are you?” asked the Judge, carelessly, but the answer roused him +at once to intense interest, and he could not quite resist a glance of reproach +at M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +“My name I have given you—Natale Ripaldi. I am a detective officer belonging to +the Roman police.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” cried M. Floçon, colouring deeply. “This is unheard of. Why in the name +of all the devils have you withheld this most astonishing statement until now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur surely remembers. I told him half an hour ago I had something +important to communicate—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, of course. But why were you so reticent. Good Heavens!” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur was not so encouraging that I felt disposed to force on him what I +knew he would have to hear in due course.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is monstrous—quite abominable, and shall not end here. Your superiors shall +hear of your conduct,” went on the Chief, hotly. +</p> + +<p> +“They will also hear, and, I think, listen to my version of the story,—that I +offered you fairly, and at the first opportunity, all the information I had, +and that you refused to accept it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You should have persisted. It was your manifest duty. You are an officer of +the law, or you say you are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray telegraph at once, if you think fit, to Rome, to the police authorities, +and you will find that Natale Ripaldi—your humble servant—travelled by the +through express with their knowledge and authority. And here are my +credentials, my official card, some official letters—” +</p> + +<p> +“And what, in a word, have you to tell us?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can tell you who the murdered man was.” +</p> + +<p> +“We know that already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly; but only his name, I apprehend. I know his profession, his business, +his object in travelling, for I was appointed to watch and follow him. That is +why I am here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he a suspicious character, then? A criminal?” +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate he was absconding from Rome, with valuables.” +</p> + +<p> +“A thief, in fact?” +</p> + +<p> +The Italian put out the palms of his hands with a gesture of doubt and +deprecation. +</p> + +<p> +“Thief is a hard, ugly word. That which he was removing was, or had been, his +own property.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut! do be more explicit and get on,” interrupted the little Chief, +testily. +</p> + +<p> +“I ask nothing better; but if questions are put to me—” +</p> + +<p> +The Judge interposed. +</p> + +<p> +“Give us your story. We can interrogate you afterwards.” +</p> + +<p> +“The murdered man is Francis A. Quadling, of the firm of Correse & +Quadling, bankers, in the Via Condotti, Rome. It was an old house, once of +good, of the highest repute, but of late years it has fallen into difficulties. +Its financial soundness was doubted in certain circles, and the Government was +warned that a great scandal was imminent. So the matter was handed over to the +police, and I was directed to make inquiries, and to keep my eye on this +Quadling”—he jerked his thumb towards the platform, where the body might be +supposed to be. +</p> + +<p> +“This Quadling was the only surviving partner. He was well known and liked in +Rome, indeed, many who heard the adverse reports disbelieved them, I myself +among the number. But my duty was plain—” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally,” echoed the fiery little detective. +</p> + +<p> +“I made it my business to place the banker under surveillance, to learn his +habits, his ways of life, see who were his friends, the houses he visited. I +soon knew much that I wanted to know, although not all. But one fact I +discovered, and think it right to inform you of it at once. He was on intimate +terms with La Castagneto—at least, he frequently called upon her.” +</p> + +<p> +“La Castagneto! Do you mean the Countess of that name, who was a passenger in +the sleeper?” +</p> + +<p> +“Beyond doubt! it is she I mean.” The officials looked at each other eagerly, +and M. Beaumont le Hardi quickly turned over the sheets on which the Countess’s +evidence was recorded. +</p> + +<p> +She had denied acquaintance with this murdered man, Quadling, and here was +positive evidence that they were on intimate terms! +</p> + +<p> +“He was at her house on the very day we all left Rome—in the evening, towards +dusk. The Countess had an apartment in the Via Margutta, and when he left her +he returned to his own place in the Condotti, entered the bank, stayed half an +hour, then came out with one hand-bag and rug, called a cab, and was driven +straight to the railway station.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you followed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. When I saw him walk straight to the sleeping-car, and ask the +conductor for 7 and 8, I knew that his plans had been laid, and that he was on +the point of leaving Rome secretly. When, presently, La Castagneto also +arrived, I concluded that she was in his confidence, and that possibly they +were eloping together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you not arrest him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had no authority, even if I had had the time. Although I was ordered to +watch the Signor Quadling, I had no warrant for his arrest. But I decided on +the spur of the moment what course I should take. It seemed to be the only one, +and that was to embark in the same train and stick close to my man.” +</p> + +<p> +“You informed your superiors, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, monsieur,” said the Italian blandly to the Chief, who asked the +question, “but have you any right to inquire into my conduct towards my +superiors? In all that affects the murder I am at your orders, but in this +other matter it is between me and them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ta, ta, ta! They will tell us if you will not. And you had better be careful, +lest you obstruct justice. Speak out, sir, and beware. What did you intend to +do?” +</p> + +<p> +“To act according to circumstances. If my suspicions were confirmed—” +</p> + +<p> +“What suspicions?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—that this banker was carrying off any large sum in cash, notes, +securities, as in effect he was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! You know that? How?” +</p> + +<p> +“By my own eyes. I looked into his compartment once and saw him in the act of +counting them over, a great quantity, in fact—” +</p> + +<p> +Again the officials looked at each other significantly. They had got at last to +a motive for the crime. +</p> + +<p> +“And that, of course, would have justified his arrest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. I proposed, directly we arrived in Paris, to claim the assistance of +your police and take him into custody. But his fate interposed.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause, a long pause, for another important point had been reached +in the inquiry: the motive for the murder had been made clear, and with it the +presumption against the Countess gained terrible strength. +</p> + +<p> +But there was more, perhaps, to be got out of this dark-visaged Italian +detective, who had already proved so useful an ally. +</p> + +<p> +“One or two words more,” said the Judge to Ripaldi. “During the journey, now, +did you have any conversation with this Quadling?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. He kept very much to himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You saw him, I suppose, at the restaurants?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, at Modane and Laroche.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did not speak to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a word.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had he any suspicion, do you think, as to who you were?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should he? He did not know me. I had taken pains he should never see me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he speak to any other passenger?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little. To the Countess. Yes, once or twice, I think, to her maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! that maid. Did you notice her at all? She has not been seen. It is +strange. She seems to have disappeared.” +</p> + +<p> +“To have run away, in fact?” suggested Ripaldi, with a queer smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, at least she is not here with her mistress. Can you offer any +explanation of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“She was perhaps afraid. The Countess and she were very good friends, I think. +On better, more familiar terms, than is usual between mistress and maid.” +</p> + +<p> +“The maid knew something?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, monsieur, it is only an idea. But I give it you for what it is worth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, this maid—what was she like?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tall, dark, good-looking, not too reserved. She made other friends—the porter +and the English Colonel. I saw the last speaking to her. I spoke to her +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“What can have become of her?” said the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“Would M. le Juge like me to go in search of her? That is, if you have no more +questions to ask, no wish to detain me further?” +</p> + +<p> +“We will consider that, and let you know in a moment, if you will wait +outside.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, when alone, the officials deliberated. +</p> + +<p> +It was a good offer, the man knew her appearance, he was in possession of all +the facts, he could be trusted— +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but can he, though?” queried the detective. “How do we know he has told us +truth? What guarantee have we of his loyalty, his good faith? What if he is +also concerned in the crime—has some guilty knowledge? What if he killed +Quadling himself, or was an accomplice before or after the fact?” +</p> + +<p> +“All these are possibilities, of course, but—pardon me, dear colleague—a little +far-fetched, eh?” said the Judge. “Why not utilize this man? If he betrays +us—serves us ill—if we had reason to lay hands on him again, he could hardly +escape us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let him go, and send some one with him,” said the Commissary, the first +practical suggestion he had yet made. +</p> + +<p> +“Excellent!” cried the Judge. “You have another man here, Chief; let him go +with this Italian.” +</p> + +<p> +They called in Ripaldi and told him, “We will accept your services, monsieur, +and you can begin your search at once. In what direction do you propose to +begin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Where has her mistress gone?” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know she has gone?” +</p> + +<p> +“At least, she is no longer with us out there. Have you arrested her—or what?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she is still at large, but we have our eye upon her. She has gone to her +hotel—the Madagascar, off the Grands Boulevards.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is there that I shall look for the maid. No doubt she preceded her +mistress to the hotel, or she will join her there very shortly.” +</p> + +<p> +“You would not make yourself known, of course? They might give you the slip. +You have no authority to detain them, not in France.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should take my precautions, and I can always appeal to the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. That would be your proper course. But you might lose valuable time, a +great opportunity, and we wish to guard against that, so we shall associate one +of our own people with you in your proceedings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! very well, if you wish. It will, no doubt, be best.” The Italian readily +assented, but a shrewd listener might have guessed from the tone of his voice +that the proposal was not exactly pleasing to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I will call in Block,” said the Chief, and the second detective inspector +appeared to take his instructions. +</p> + +<p> +He was a stout, stumpy little man, with a barrel-like figure, greatly +emphasized by the short frock coat he wore; he had smallish pig’s eyes buried +deep in a fat face, and his round, chubby cheeks hung low over his turned-down +collar. +</p> + +<p> +“This gentleman,” went on the Chief, indicating Ripaldi, “is a member of the +Roman police, and has been so obliging as to offer us his services. You will +accompany him, in the first instance, to the Hôtel Madagascar. Put yourself in +communication with Galipaud, who is there on duty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it not be sufficient if I made myself known to M. Galipaud?” suggested +the Italian. “I have seen him here, I should recognize him—” +</p> + +<p> +“That is not so certain; he may have changed his appearance. Besides, he does +not know the latest developments, and might not be very cordial.” +</p> + +<p> +“You might write me a few lines to take to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. We prefer to send Block,” replied the Chief, briefly and +decidedly. He did not like this pertinacity, and looked at his colleagues as +though he sought their concurrence in altering the arrangements for the +Italian’s mission. It might be wiser to detain him still. +</p> + +<p> +“It was only to save trouble that I made the suggestion,” hastily put in +Ripaldi. “Naturally I am in your hands. And if I do not meet with the maid at +the hotel, I may have to look further, in which case Monsieur—Block? thank +you—would no doubt render valuable assistance.” +</p> + +<p> +This speech restored confidence, and a few minutes later the two detectives, +already excellent friends from the freemasonry of a common craft, left the +station in a closed cab. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p> +“What next?” asked the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“That pestilent English officer, if you please, M. le Juge,” said the +detective. “That fire-eating, swashbuckling soldier, with his blustering +barrack-room ways. I long to come to close quarters with him. He ridiculed me, +taunted me, said I knew nothing—we will see, we will see.” +</p> + +<p> +“In fact, you wish to interrogate him yourself. Very well. Let us have him in.” +</p> + +<p> +When Sir Charles Collingham entered, he included the three officials in one +cold, stiff bow, waited a moment, and then, finding he was not offered a chair, +said with studied politeness: +</p> + +<p> +“I presume I may sit down?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon. Of course; pray be seated,” said the Judge, hastily, and evidently a +little ashamed of himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! thanks. Do you object?” went on the General, taking out a silver +cigarette-case. “May I offer one?” He handed round the box affably. +</p> + +<p> +“We do not smoke on duty,” answered the Chief, rudely. “Nor is smoking +permitted in a court of justice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, I wish to show no disrespect. But I cannot recognize this as a +court of justice, and I think, if you will forgive me, that I shall take three +whiffs. It may help me keep my temper.” +</p> + +<p> +He was evidently making game of them. There was no symptom remaining of the +recent effervescence when he was acting as the Countess’s champion, and he was +perfectly—nay, insolently calm and self-possessed. +</p> + +<p> +“You call yourself General Collingham?” went on the Chief. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not call myself. I am General Sir Charles Collingham, of the British +Army.” +</p> + +<p> +“Retired?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I am still on the active list.” +</p> + +<p> +“These points will have to be verified.” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart. You have already sent to the British Embassy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but no one has come,” answered the detective, contemptuously. +</p> + +<p> +“If you disbelieve me, why do you question me?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is our duty to question you, and yours to answer. If not, we have means to +make you. You are suspected, inculpated in a terrible crime, and your whole +attitude is—is—objectionable—unworthy—disgr—” +</p> + +<p> +“Gently, gently, my dear colleague,” interposed the Judge. “If you will permit +me, I will take up this. And you, M. le Général, I am sure you cannot wish to +impede or obstruct us; we represent the law of this country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have I done so, M. le Juge?” answered the General, with the utmost courtesy, +as he threw away his half-burned cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no. I do not imply that in the least. I only entreat you, as a good and +gallant gentleman, to meet us in a proper spirit and give us your best help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I am quite ready. If there has been any unpleasantness, it has surely +not been of my making, but rather of that little man there.” The General +pointed to M. Floçon rather contemptuously, and nearly started a fresh +disturbance. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, let us say no more of that, and proceed to business. I +understand,” said the Judge, after fingering a few pages of the dispositions in +front of him, “that you are a friend of the Contessa di Castagneto? Indeed, she +has told us so herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was very good of her to call me her friend. I am proud to hear she so +considers me.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you known her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Four or five months. Since the beginning of the last winter season in Rome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you frequent her house?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you mean, was I permitted to call on her on friendly terms, yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know all her friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I answer that? I know whom I met there from time to time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. Did you often meet among them a Signor—Quadling?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quadling—Quadling? I cannot say that I have. The name is familiar somehow, but +I cannot recall the man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you never heard of the Roman bankers, Correse & Quadling?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, of course. Although I have had no dealing with them. Certainly I have +never met Mr. Quadling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at the Countess’s?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never—of that I am quite sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet we have had positive evidence that he was a constant visitor there.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is perfectly incomprehensible to me. Not only have I never met him, but I +have never heard the Countess mention his name.” +</p> + +<p> +“It will surprise you, then, to be told that he called at her apartment in the +Via Margutta on the very evening of her departure from Rome. Called, was +admitted, was closeted with her for more than an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am surprised, astounded. I called there myself about four in the afternoon +to offer my services for the journey, and I too stayed till after five. I can +hardly believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have more surprises for you, General. What will you think when I tell you +that this very Quadling—this friend, acquaintance, call him what you please, +but at least intimate enough to pay her a visit on the eve of a long +journey—was the man found murdered in the sleeping-car?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can it be possible? Are you sure?” cried Sir Charles, almost starting from his +chair. “And what do you deduce from all this? What do you imply? An accusation +against that lady? Absurd!” +</p> + +<p> +“I respect your chivalrous desire to stand up for a lady who calls you her +friend, but we are officials first, and sentiment cannot be permitted to +influence us. We have good reasons for suspecting that lady. I tell you that +frankly, and trust to you as a soldier and man of honour not to abuse the +confidence reposed in you.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I not know those reasons?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because she was in the car—the only woman, you understand—between Laroche and +Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suspect a female hand, then?” asked the General, evidently much +interested and impressed. +</p> + +<p> +“That is so, although I am exceeding my duty in revealing this.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you are satisfied that this lady, a refined, delicate person in the best +society, of the highest character,—believe me, I know that to be the case,—whom +you yet suspect of an atrocious crime, was the only female in the car?” +</p> + +<p> +“Obviously. Who else? What other woman could possibly have been in the car? No +one got in at Laroche; the train never stopped till it reached Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“On that last point at least you are quite mistaken, I assure you. Why not upon +the other also?” +</p> + +<p> +“The train stopped?” interjected the detective. “Why has no one told us that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly because you never asked. But it is nevertheless the fact. Verify it. +Every one will tell you the same.” +</p> + +<p> +The detective himself hurried to the door and called in the porter. He was +within his rights, of course, but the action showed distrust, at which the +General only smiled, but he laughed outright when the still stupid and +half-dazed porter, of course, corroborated the statement at once. +</p> + +<p> +“At whose instance was the train pulled up?” asked the detective, and the Judge +nodded his head approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +To know that would fix fresh suspicion. +</p> + +<p> +But the porter could not answer the question. +</p> + +<p> +Some one had rung the alarm-bell—so at least the conductor had declared; +otherwise they should not have stopped. Yet he, the porter, had not done so, +nor did any passenger come forward to admit giving the signal. But there had +been a halt. Yes, assuredly. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a new light,” the Judge confessed. “Do you draw any conclusion from +it?” he went on to ask the General. +</p> + +<p> +“That is surely your business. I have only elicited the fact to disprove your +theory. But if you wish, I will tell you how it strikes me.” +</p> + +<p> +The Judge bowed assent. +</p> + +<p> +“The bare fact that the train was halted would mean little. That would be the +natural act of a timid or excitable person involved indirectly in such a +catastrophe. But to disavow the act starts suspicion. The fair inference is +that there was some reason, an unavowable reason, for halting the train.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that reason would be—” +</p> + +<p> +“You must see it without my assistance, surely! Why, what else but to afford +some one an opportunity to leave the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how could that be? You would have seen that person, some of you, +especially at such a critical time. The aisle would be full of people, both +exits were thus practically overlooked.” +</p> + +<p> +“My idea is—it is only an idea, understand—that the person had already left the +car—that is to say, the interior of the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“Escaped how? Where? What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Escaped through the open window of the compartment where you found the +murdered man.” +</p> + +<p> +“You noticed the open window, then?” quickly asked the detective. “When was +that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Directly I entered the compartment at the first alarm. It occurred to me at +once that some one might have gone through it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But no woman could have done it. To climb out of an express train going at top +speed would be an impossible feat for a woman,” said the detective, doggedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, in God’s name, do you still harp upon the woman? Why should it be a woman +more than a man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because”—it was the Judge who spoke, but he paused a moment in deference to a +gesture of protest from M. Floçon. The little detective was much concerned at +the utter want of reticence displayed by his colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“Because,” went on the Judge with decision—“because this was found in the +compartment;” and he held out the piece of lace and the scrap of beading for +the General’s inspection, adding quickly, “You have seen these, or one of them, +or something like them before. I am sure of it; I call upon you; I demand—no, I +appeal to your sense of honour, Sir Collingham. Tell me, please, exactly what +you know.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p> +The General sat for a time staring hard at the bit of torn lace and the broken +beads. Then he spoke out firmly: +</p> + +<p> +“It is my duty to withhold nothing. It is not the lace. That I could not swear +to; for me—and probably for most men—two pieces of lace are very much the same. +But I think I have seen these beads, or something exactly like them, before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where? When?” +</p> + +<p> +“They formed part of the trimming of a mantle worn by the Contessa di +Castagneto.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” it was the same interjection uttered simultaneously by the three +Frenchmen, but each had a very different note; in the Judge it was deep +interest, in the detective triumph, in the Commissary indignation, as when he +caught a criminal red-handed. +</p> + +<p> +“Did she wear it on the journey?” continued the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“As to that I cannot say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, General, you were with her constantly; you must be able to tell +us. We insist on being told.” This fiercely, from the now jubilant M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +“I repeat that I cannot say. To the best of my recollection, the Countess wore +a long travelling cloak—an ulster, as we call them. The jacket with those bead +ornaments may have been underneath. But if I have seen them,—as I believe I +have,—it was not during this journey.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the Judge whispered to M. Floçon, “The searcher did not discover any +second mantle.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do we know the woman examined thoroughly?” he replied. “Here, at least, is +direct evidence as to the beads. At last the net is drawing round this fine +Countess.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, at any rate,” said the detective aloud, returning to the General, “these +beads were found in the compartment of the murdered man. I should like that +explained, please.” +</p> + +<p> +“By me? How can I explain it? And the fact does not bear upon what we were +considering, as to whether any one had left the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Countess, as we know, never left the car. As to her entering this +particular compartment,—at any previous time,—it is highly improbable. Indeed, +it is rather insulting her to suggest it.” +</p> + +<p> +“She and this Quadling were close friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“So you say. On what evidence I do not know, but I dispute it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then how could the beads get there? They were her property, worn by her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Once, I admit, but not necessarily on this journey. Suppose she had given the +mantle away—to her maid, for instance; I believe ladies often pass on their +things to their maids.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is all pure presumption, a mere theory. This maid—she has not as yet been +imported into the discussion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I would suggest that you do so without delay. She is to my mind a—well, +rather a curious person.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know her—spoke to her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know her, in a way. I had seen her in the Via Margutta, and I nodded to her +when she came first into the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“And on the journey—you spoke to her frequently?” +</p> + +<p> +“I? Oh, dear, no, not at all. I noticed her, certainly; I could not help it, +and perhaps I ought to tell her mistress. She seemed to make friends a little +too readily with people.” +</p> + +<p> +“As for instance—?” +</p> + +<p> +“With the porter to begin with. I saw them together at Laroche, in the buffet +at the bar; and that Italian, the man who was in here before me; indeed, with +the murdered man. She seemed to know them all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you imply that the maid might be of use in this inquiry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most assuredly I do. As I tell you, she was constantly in and out of the car, +and more or less intimate with several of the passengers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Including her mistress, the Countess,” put in M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +The General laughed pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Most ladies are, I presume, on intimate terms with their maids. They say no +man is a hero to his valet. It is the same, I suppose, with the other sex.” +</p> + +<p> +“So intimate,” went on the little detective, with much malicious emphasis, +“that now the maid has disappeared lest she might be asked inconvenient +questions about her mistress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Disappeared? You are sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“She cannot be found, that is all we know.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is as I thought, then. She it was who left the car!” cried Sir Charles, +with so much vehemence that the officials were startled out of their dignified +reserve, and shouted back almost in a breath: “Explain yourself. Quick, quick. +What in God’s name do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had my suspicions from the first, and I will tell you why. At Laroche the +car emptied, as you may have heard; every one except the Countess, at least, +went over to the restaurant for early coffee; I with the rest. I was one of the +first to finish, and I strolled back to the platform to get a few whiffs of a +cigarette. At that moment I saw, or thought I saw, the end of a skirt +disappearing into the sleeping-car. I concluded it was this maid, Hortense, who +was taking her mistress a cup of coffee. Then my brother came up, we exchanged +a few words, and entered the car together.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the same door as that through which you had seen the skirt pass?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, by the other. My brother went back to his berth, but I paused in the +corridor to finish my cigarette after the train had gone on. By this time every +one but myself had returned to his berth, and I was on the point of lying down +again for half an hour, when I distinctly heard the handle turned of the +compartment I knew to be vacant all through the run.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was the one with berths 11 and 12?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably. It was next to the Countess. Not only was the handle turned, but the +door partly opened—” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not the porter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, he was in his seat,—you know it, at the end of the car,—sound asleep, +snoring; I could hear him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did any one come out of the vacant compartment?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; but I was almost certain, I believe I could swear that I saw the same +skirt, just the hem of it, a black skirt, sway forward beyond the door, just +for a second. Then all at once the door was closed again fast.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you conclude from this? Or did you think nothing of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought very little. I supposed it was that the maid wished to be near her +mistress as we were approaching Paris, and I had heard from the Countess that +the porter had made many difficulties. But you see, after what has happened, +that there was a reason for stopping the train.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” M. Floçon readily admitted, with a scarcely concealed sneer. +</p> + +<p> +He had quite made up his mind now that it was the Countess who had rung the +alarm-bell, in order to allow of the escape of the maid, her confederate and +accomplice. +</p> + +<p> +“And you still have an impression that some one—presumably this woman—got off +the car, somehow, during the stoppage?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I suggest it, certainly. Whether it was or could be so, I must leave to your +superior judgment.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! A woman climb out like that? Bah! Tell that to some one else!” +</p> + +<p> +“You have, of course, examined the exterior of the car, dear colleague?” now +said the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“Assuredly, once, but I will do it again. Still, the outside is quite smooth, +there is no foot-board. Only an acrobat could succeed in thus escaping, and +then only at the peril of his life. But a woman—oh, no! it is too absurd.” +</p> + +<p> +“With help she might, I think, get up on to the roof,” quickly remarked Sir +Charles. “I have looked out of the window of my compartment. It would be +nothing for a man, nor much for a woman if assisted.” +</p> + +<p> +“That we will see for ourselves,” said the detective, ungraciously. +</p> + +<p> +“The sooner the better,” added the Judge, and the whole party rose from their +chairs, intending to go straight to the car, when the policeman on guard +appeared at the door, followed close by an English military officer in uniform, +whom he was trying to keep back, but with no great success. It was Colonel +Papillon of the Embassy. +</p> + +<p> +“Halloa, Jack! you <i>are</i> a good chap,” cried the General, quickly going +forward to shake hands. “I was sure you would come.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, sir! Of course I came. I was just going to an official function, as you +see, but his Excellency insisted, my horse was at the door, and here I am.” +</p> + +<p> +All this was in English, but the attaché turned now to the officials, and, with +many apologies for his intrusion, suggested that they should allow his friend, +the General, to return with him to the Embassy when they had done with him. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we will answer for him. He shall remain at your disposal, and will +appear whenever called upon.” He returned to Sir Charles, asking, “You will +promise that, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, willingly. I had always meant to stay on a bit in Paris. And really I +should like to see the end of this. But my brother? He must get home for next +Sunday’s duty. He has nothing to tell, but he would come back to Paris at any +time if his evidence was wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +The French Judge very obligingly agreed to all these proposals, and two more of +the detained passengers, making four in all, now left the station. +</p> + +<p> +Then the officials proceeded to the car, which still remained as the Chief +Detective had left it. +</p> + +<p> +Here they soon found how just were the General’s previsions. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p> +The three officials went straight to where the still open window showed the +particular spot to be examined. The exterior of the car was a little smirched +and stained with the dust of the journey, lying thick in parts, and in others +there were a few great splotches of mud plastered on. +</p> + +<p> +The detective paused for a moment to get a general view, looking, in the light +of the General’s suggestion, for either hand or foot marks, anything like a +trace of the passage of a feminine skirt, across the dusty surface. +</p> + +<p> +But nothing was to be seen, nothing definite or conclusive at least. Only here +and there a few lines and scratches that might be encouraging, but proved +little. +</p> + +<p> +Then the Commissary, drawing nearer, called attention to some suspicious spots +sprinkled about the window, but above it towards the roof. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” asked the detective, as his colleague with the point of his long +fore-finger nail picked at the thin crust on the top of one of these spots, +disclosing a dark, viscous core. +</p> + +<p> +“I could not swear to it, but I believe it is blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Blood! Good Heavens!” cried the detective, as he dragged his powerful +magnifying glass out of his pocket and applied it to the spot. “Look, M. le +Juge,” he added, after a long and minute examination. “What say you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It has that appearance. Only medical evidence can positively decide, but I +believe it is blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now we are on the right track, I feel convinced. Some one fetch a ladder.” +</p> + +<p> +One of these curious French ladders, narrow at the top, splayed out at the +base, was quickly leaned against the car, and the detective ran up, using his +magnifier as he climbed. +</p> + +<p> +“There is more here, much more, and something like—yes, beyond question it +is—the print of two hands upon the roof. It was here she climbed.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt. I can see it now exactly. She would sit on the window ledge, the +lower limbs inside the car here and held there. Then with her hands she would +draw herself up to the roof,” said the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“But what nerve! what strength of arm!” +</p> + +<p> +“It was life and death. Within the car was more terrible danger. Fear will do +much in such a case. We all know that. Well! what more?” +</p> + +<p> +By this time the detective had stepped on to the roof of the car. +</p> + +<p> +“More, more, much more! Footprints, as plain as a picture. A woman’s feet. +Wait, let me follow them to the end,” said he, cautiously creeping forward to +the end of the car. +</p> + +<p> +A minute or two more, and he rejoined his colleagues on the ground level, and, +rubbing his hands, declared joyously that it was all perfectly clear. +</p> + +<p> +“Dangerous or not, difficult or not, she did it. I have traced her; have seen +where she must have lain crouching ever so long, followed her all along the top +of the car, to the end where she got down above the little platform exit. +Beyond doubt she left the car when it stopped, and by arrangement with her +confederate.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Countess?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who else?” +</p> + +<p> +“And at a point near Paris. The English General said the halt was within twenty +minutes’ run of the station.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is from that point we must commence our search for her. The Italian +has gone on the wrong scent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not necessarily. The maid, we may be sure, will try to communicate with her +mistress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, it would be well to secure her before she can do that,” said the Judge. +“With all we know now, a sharp interrogation might extract some very damaging +admissions from her,” went on the detective, eagerly. “Who is to go? I have +sent away both my assistants. Of course I can telephone for another man, or I +might go myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, dear colleague, we cannot spare you just yet. Telephone by all means. +I presume you would wish to be present at the rest of the interrogatories?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, you are right. We may elicit more about this maid. Let us call in +the porter now. He is said to have had relations with her. Something more may +be got out of him.” +</p> + +<p> +The more did not amount to much. Groote, the porter, came in, cringing and +wretched, in the abject state of a man who has lately been drugged and is now +slowly recovering. Although sharply questioned, he had nothing to add to his +first story. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak out,” said the Judge, harshly. “Tell us everything plainly and promptly, +or I shall send you straight to gaol. The order is already made out;” and as he +spoke, he waved a flimsy bit of paper before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing,” the porter protested, piteously. +</p> + +<p> +“That is false. We are fully informed and no fools. We are certain that no such +catastrophe could have occurred without your knowledge or connivance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, gentlemen, indeed—” +</p> + +<p> +“You were drinking with this maid at the buffet at Laroche. You had more drink +with her, or from her hands, afterwards in the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, gentlemen, that is not so. I could not—she was not in the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“We know better. You cannot deceive us. You were her accomplice, and the +accomplice of her mistress, also, I have no doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +“I declare solemnly that I am quite innocent of all this. I hardly remember +what happened at Laroche or after. I do not deny the drink at the buffet. It +was very nasty, I thought, and could not tell why, nor why I could not hold my +head up when I got back to the car.” +</p> + +<p> +“You went off to sleep at once? Is that what you pretend?” +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been so. Yes. Then I know nothing more, not till I was aroused.” +</p> + +<p> +And beyond this, a tale to which he stuck with undeviating persistence, they +could elicit nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“He is either too clever for us or an absolute idiot and fool,” said the Judge, +wearily, at last, when Groote had gone out. “We had better commit him to Mazas +and hold him there in solitary confinement under our hands. After a day or two +of that he may be less difficult.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is quite clear he was drugged, that the maid put opium or laudanum into his +drink at Laroche.” +</p> + +<p> +“And enough of it apparently, for he says he went off to sleep directly he +returned to the car,” the Judge remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“He says so. But he must have had a second dose, or why was the vial found on +the ground by his seat?” asked the Chief, thoughtfully, as much of himself as +of the others. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot believe in a second dose. How was it administered—by whom? It was +laudanum, and could only be given in a drink. He says he had no second drink. +And by whom? The maid? He says he did not see the maid again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, M. le Juge, but do you not give too much credibility to the porter? +For me, his evidence is tainted, and I hardly believe a word of it. Did he not +tell me at first he had not seen this maid after Amberieux at 8 P.M.? Now he +admits that he was drinking with her at the buffet at Laroche. It is all a +tissue of lies, his losing the pocket-book and his papers too. There is +something to conceal. Even his sleepiness, his stupidity, are likely to have +been assumed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think he is acting; he has not the ability to deceive us like that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, what if the Countess took him the second drink?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! oh! That is the purest conjecture. There is nothing whatever to suggest or +support that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then how explain the finding of the vial near the porter’s seat?” +</p> + +<p> +“May it not have been dropped there on purpose?” put in the Commissary, with +another flash of intelligence. +</p> + +<p> +“On purpose?” queried the detective, crossly, foreseeing an answer that would +not please him. +</p> + +<p> +“On purpose to bring suspicion on the lady?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see it in that light. That would imply that she was not in the plot, +and plot there certainly was; everything points to it. The drugging, the open +window, the maid’s escape.” +</p> + +<p> +“A plot, no doubt, but organized by whom? These two women only? Could either of +them have struck the fatal blow? Hardly. Women have the wit to conceive, but +neither courage nor brute force to execute. There was a man in this, rest +assured.” +</p> + +<p> +“Granted. But who? That fire-eating Sir Collingham?” quickly asked the +detective, giving rein once more to his hatred. +</p> + +<p> +“That is not a solution that commends itself to me, I must confess,” declared +the Judge. “The General’s conduct has been blameworthy and injudicious, but he +is not of the stuff that makes criminals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who, then? The porter? No? The clergyman? No? The French gentlemen?—well, we +have not examined them yet; but from what I saw at the first cursory glance, I +am not disposed to suspect them.” +</p> + +<p> +“What of that Italian?” asked the Commissary. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure of him? His looks did not please me greatly, and he was very +eager to get away from here. What if he takes to his heels?” +</p> + +<p> +“Block is with him,” the Chief put in hastily, with the evident desire to +stifle an unpleasant misgiving. “We have touch of him if we want him, as we +may.” +</p> + +<p> +How much they might want him they only realized when they got further in their +inquiry! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p> +Only the two Frenchmen remained for examination. They had been left to the last +by pure accident. The exigencies of the inquiry had led to the preference of +others, but these two well-broken and submissive gentlemen made no visible +protest. However much they may have chafed inwardly at the delay, they knew +better than to object; any outburst of discontent would, they knew, recoil on +themselves. Not only were they perfectly patient now when summoned before the +officers of justice, they were most eager to give every assistance to the law, +to go beyond the mere letter, and, if needs be, volunteer information. +</p> + +<p> +The first called in was the elder, M. Anatole Lafolay, a true Parisian +<i>bourgeois</i>, fat and comfortable, unctuous in speech, and exceedingly +deferential. +</p> + +<p> +The story he told was in its main outlines that which we already know, but he +was further questioned, by the light of the latest facts and ideas as now +elicited. +</p> + +<p> +The line adroitly taken by the Judge was to get some evidence of collusion and +combination among the passengers, especially with reference to two of them, the +two women of the party. On this important point M. Lafolay had something to +say. +</p> + +<p> +Asked if he had seen or noticed the lady’s maid on the journey, he answered +“yes” very decisively and with a smack of the lips, as though the sight of this +pretty and attractive person had given him considerable satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you speak to her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no. I had no opportunity. Besides, she had her own friends—great friends, +I fancy. I caught her more than once whispering in the corner of the car with +one of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that was—?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think the Italian gentleman; I am almost sure I recognized his clothes. I +did not see his face, it was turned from me—towards hers, and very close, I may +be permitted to say.” +</p> + +<p> +“And they were friendly?” +</p> + +<p> +“More than friendly, I should say. Very intimate indeed. I should not have been +surprised if—when I turned away as a matter of fact—if he did not touch, just +touch, her red lips. It would have been excusable—forgive me, messieurs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aha! They were so intimate as that? Indeed! And did she reserve her favours +exclusively for him? Did no one else address her, pay her court on the +quiet—you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I saw her with the porter, I believe, at Laroche, but only then. No, the +Italian was her chief companion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did any one else notice the flirtation, do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly. There was no secrecy. It was very marked. We could all see.” +</p> + +<p> +“And her mistress too?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I will not say. The lady I saw but little during the journey.” +</p> + +<p> +A few more questions, mainly personal, as to his address, business, probable +presence in Paris for the next few weeks, and M. Lafolay was permitted to +depart. +</p> + +<p> +The examination of the younger Frenchman, a smart, alert young man, of +pleasant, insinuating address, with a quick, inquisitive eye, followed the same +lines, and was distinctly corroborative on all the points to which M. Lafolay +spoke. But M. Jules Devaux had something startling to impart concerning the +Countess. +</p> + +<p> +When asked if he had seen her or spoken to her, he shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No; she kept very much to herself,” he said. “I saw her but little, hardly at +all, except at Modane. She kept her own berth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where she received her own friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, beyond doubt. The Englishmen both visited her there, but not the Italian.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Italian? Are we to infer that she knew the Italian?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I wish to convey. Not on the journey, though. Between Rome and +Paris she did not seem to know him. It was afterwards; this morning, in fact, +that I came to the conclusion that there was some secret understanding between +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say that, M. Devaux?” cried the detective, excitedly. “Let me urge +you and implore you to speak out, and fully. This is of the utmost, of the very +first, importance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen, I will tell you. As you are well aware, on arrival at this +station we were all ordered to leave the car, and marched to the waiting-room, +out there. As a matter of course, the lady entered first, and she was seated +when I went in. There was a strong light on her face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was her veil down?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not then. I saw her lower it later, and, as I think, for reasons I will +presently put before you. Madame has a beautiful face, and I gazed at it with +sympathy, grieving for her, in fact, in such a trying situation; when suddenly +I saw a great and remarkable change come over it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what character?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a look of horror, disgust, surprise,—a little perhaps of all three; I +could not quite say which, it faded so quickly and was followed by a cold, +deathlike pallor. Then almost immediately she lowered her veil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could you form any explanation for what you saw in her face? What caused it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Something unexpected, I believe, some shock, or the sight of something +shocking. That was how it struck me, and so forcibly that I turned to look over +my shoulder, expecting to find the reason there. And it was.” +</p> + +<p> +“That reason—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Was the entrance of the Italian, who came just behind me. I am certain of +this; he almost told me so himself, not in words, but the mistakable leer he +gave her in reply. It was wicked, sardonic, devilish, and proved beyond doubt +that there was some secret, some guilty secret perhaps, between them.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was that all?” cried both the Judge and M. Floçon in a breath, leaning +forward in their eagerness to hear more. +</p> + +<p> +“For the moment, yes. But I was made so interested, so suspicious by this, that +I watched the Italian closely, awaiting, expecting further developments. They +were long in coming; indeed, I am only at the end now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Explain, pray, as quickly as possible, and in your own words.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was like this, monsieur. When we were all seated, I looked round, and did +not at first see our Italian. At last I discovered he had taken a back seat, +through modesty perhaps, or to be out of observation—how was I to know? He sat +in the shadow by a door, that, in fact, which leads into this room. He was thus +in the background, rather out of the way, but I could see his eyes glittering +in that far-off corner, and they were turned in our direction, always fixed +upon the lady, you understand. She was next me, the whole time. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, as you will remember, monsieur, you called us in one by one, and I, with +M. Lafolay, was the first to appear before you. When I returned to the outer +room, the Italian was still staring, but not so fixedly or continuously, at the +lady. From time to time his eyes wandered towards a table near which he sat, +and which was just in the gangway or passage by which people must pass into +your presence. +</p> + +<p> +“There was some reason for this, I felt sure, although I did not understand it +immediately. + +“Presently I got at the hidden meaning There was a small piece of paper, rolled +up or crumpled up into a ball, lying upon this table, and the Italian wished, +nay, was desperately anxious, to call the lady’s attention to it. If I had had +any doubt of this, it was quite removed after the man had gone into the inner +room. As he left us, he turned his head over his shoulder significantly and +nodded very slightly, but still perceptibly, at the ball of paper. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen, I was now satisfied in my own mind that this was some artful +attempt of his to communicate with the lady, and had she fallen in with it, I +should have immediately informed you, the proper authorities. But whether from +stupidity, dread, disinclination, a direct, definite refusal to have any +dealings with this man, the lady would not—at any rate did not—pick up the +ball, as she might have done easily when she in her turn passed the table on +her way to your presence. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no doubt it was thrown there for her, and probably you will agree with +me. But it takes two to make a game of this sort, and the lady would not join. +Neither on leaving the room nor on returning would she take up the missive.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what became of it, then?” asked the detective in breathless excitement. “I +have it here.” M. Devaux opened the palm of his hand and displayed the scrap of +paper in the hollow rolled up into a small tight ball. +</p> + +<p> +“When and how did you become possessed of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I got it only just now, when I was called in here. Before that I could not +move. I was tied to my chair, practically, and ordered strictly not to move.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly. Monsieur’s conduct has been admirable. And now tell us—what does it +contain? Have you looked at it?” +</p> + +<p> +“By no means. It is just as I picked it up. Will you gentlemen take it, and if +you think fit, tell me what is there? Some writing—a message of some sort, or I +am greatly mistaken.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, here are words written in pencil,” said the detective, unrolling the +paper, which he handed on to the Judge, who read the contents aloud— +</p> + +<p> +“Be careful. Say nothing. If you betray me, you will be lost too.” +</p> + +<p> +A long silence followed, broken first by the Judge, who said at last solemnly +to Devaux: +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur, in the name of justice I beg to thank you most warmly. You have +acted with admirable tact and judgment, and have rendered us invaluable +assistance. Have you anything further to tell us?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, gentlemen. That is all. And you—you have no more questions to ask? Then I +presume I may withdraw?” +</p> + +<p> +Beyond doubt it had been reserved for the last witness to produce facts that +constituted the very essence of the inquiry. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p> +The examination was now over, and, the dispositions having been drawn up and +signed, the investigating officials remained for some time in conference. +</p> + +<p> +“It lies with those three, of course—the two women and the Italian. They are +jointly, conjointly concerned, although the exact degrees of guilt cannot quite +be apportioned,” said the detective. +</p> + +<p> +“And all three are at large!” added the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“If you will issue warrants for arrest, M. le Juge, we can take them—two of +them at any rate—when we choose.” +</p> + +<p> +“That should be at once,” remarked the Commissary, eager, as usual, for +decisive action. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. Let us proceed in that way. Prepare the warrants,” said the Judge, +turning to his clerk. “And you,” he went on, addressing M. Floçon, “dear +colleague, will you see to their execution? Madame is at the Hôtel Madagascar; +that will be easy. The Italian Ripaldi we shall hear of through your inspector +Block. As for the maid, Hortense Petitpré, we must search for her. That too, +sir, you will of course undertake?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will charge myself with it, certainly. My man should be here by now, and I +will instruct him at once. Ask for him,” said M. Floçon to the guard whom he +called in. +</p> + +<p> +“The inspector is there,” said the guard, pointing to the outer room. “He has +just returned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Returned? You mean arrived.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, monsieur, returned. It is Block, who left an hour or more ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Block? Then something has happened—he has some special information, some great +news! Shall we see him, M. le Juge?” +</p> + +<p> +When Block appeared, it was evident that something had gone wrong with him. His +face wore a look of hot, flurried excitement, and his manner was one of abject, +cringing self-abasement. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” asked the little Chief, sharply. “You are alone. Where is your +man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas, monsieur! how shall I tell you? He has gone—disappeared! I have lost +him!” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible! You cannot mean it! Gone, now, just when we most want him? Never!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so, unhappily.” +</p> + +<p> +“Idiot! <i>Triple</i> idiot! You shall be dismissed, discharged from this hour. +You are a disgrace to the force.” M. Floçon raved furiously at his abashed +subordinate, blaming him a little too harshly and unfairly, forgetting that +until quite recently there had been no strong suspicion against the Italian. We +are apt at times to expect others to be intuitively possessed of knowledge that +has only come to us at a much later date. +</p> + +<p> +“How was it? Explain. Of course you have been drinking. It is that, or your +great gluttony. You were beguiled into some eating-house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur, you shall hear the exact truth. When we started more than an hour +ago, our fiacre took the usual route, by the Quais and along the riverside. My +gentleman made himself most pleasant.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt,” growled the Chief. +</p> + +<p> +“Offered me an excellent cigar, and talked—not about the affair, you +understand—but of Paris, the theatres, the races, Longchamps, Auteuil, the +grand restaurants. He knew everything, all Paris, like his pocket. I was much +surprised, but he told me his business often brought him here. He had been +employed to follow up several great Italian criminals, and had made a number of +important arrests in Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Get on, get on! come to the essential.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, in the middle of the journey, when we were about the Pont Henri Quatre, +he said, ‘Figure to yourself, my friend, that it is now near noon, that nothing +has passed my lips since before daylight at Laroche. What say you? Could you +eat a mouthful, just a scrap on the thumb-nail? Could you?’” +</p> + +<p> +“And you—greedy, gormandizing beast!—you agreed?” +</p> + +<p> +“My faith, monsieur, I too was hungry. It was my regular hour. Well—at any +rate, for my sins I accepted. We entered the first restaurant, that of the +‘Reunited Friends,’ you know it, perhaps, monsieur? A good house, especially +noted for tripe <i>à la mode de Caen</i>.” In spite of his anguish, Block +smacked his fat lips at the thought of this most succulent but very greasy +dish. +</p> + +<p> +“How often must I tell you to get on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me, monsieur, but it is all part of my story. We had oysters, two +dozen Marennes, and a glass or two of Chablis; then a good portion of tripe, +and with them a bottle, only one, monsieur, of Pontet Canet; after that a +beefsteak with potatoes and a little Burgundy, then a rum omelet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Great Heavens! you should be the fat man in a fair, not an agent of the +Detective Bureau.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was all this that helped me to my destruction. He ate, this devilish +Italian, like three, and I too, I was so hungry,—forgive me, sir,—I did my +share. But by the time we reached the cheese, a fine, ripe Camembert, had our +coffee, and one thimbleful of green Chartreuse, I was <i>plein jusqu’au +bec</i>, gorged up to the beak.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what of your duty, your service, pray?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did think of it, monsieur, but then, he, the Italian, was just the same as +myself. He was a colleague. I had no fear of him, not till the very last, when +he played me this evil turn. I suspected nothing when he brought out his +pocketbook,—it was stuffed full, monsieur; I saw that and my confidence +increased,—called for the reckoning, and paid with an Italian bank-note. The +waiter looked doubtful at the foreign money, and went out to consult the +manager. A minute after, my man got up, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“‘There may be some trouble about changing that bank-note. Excuse me one +moment, pray.’ He went out, monsieur, and piff-paff, he was no more to be +seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, <i>nigaud</i> (ass), you are too foolish to live! Why did you not follow +him? Why let him out of your sight?” +</p> + +<p> +“But, monsieur, I was not to know, was I? I was to accompany him, not to watch +him. I have done wrong, I confess. But then, who was to tell he meant to run +away?” +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon could not deny the justice of this defence. It was only now, at the +eleventh hour, that the Italian had become inculpated, and the question of his +possible anxiety to escape had never been considered. +</p> + +<p> +“He was so artful,” went on Block in further extenuation of his offence. “He +left everything behind. His overcoat, stick, this book—his own private +memorandum-book seemingly—” +</p> + +<p> +“Book? Hand it me,” said the Chief, and when it came into his hands he began to +turn over the leaves hurriedly. +</p> + +<p> +It was a small brass-bound note-book or diary, and was full of close writing in +pencil. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not understand, not more than a word here and there. It is no doubt +Italian. Do you know that language, M. le Juge?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not perfectly, but I can read it. Allow me.” +</p> + +<p> +He also turned over the pages, pausing to read a passage here and there, and +nodding his head from time to time, evidently struck with the importance of the +matter recorded. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, M. Floçon continued an angry conversation with his offending +subordinate. +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to find him, Block, and that speedily, within twenty-four +hours,—to-day, indeed,—or I will break you like a stick, and send you into the +gutter. Of course, such a consummate ass as you have proved yourself would not +think of searching the restaurant or the immediate neighbourhood, or of making +inquiries as to whether he had been seen, or as to which way he had gone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, monsieur is too hard on me. I have been unfortunate, a victim to +circumstances, still I believe I know my duty. Yes, I made inquiries, and, what +is more, I heard of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where? how?” asked the Chief, gruffly, but obviously much interested. +</p> + +<p> +“He never spoke to the manager, but walked out and let the change go. It was a +note for a hundred <i>lire</i>, a hundred francs, and the restaurant bill was +no more than seventeen francs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hah! that is greatly against him indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was much pressed, in a great hurry. Directly he crossed the threshold he +called the first cab and was driving away, but he was stopped—” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil! Why did they not keep him, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Stopped, but only for a moment, and accosted by a woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“A woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, monsieur. They exchanged but three words. He wished to pass on, to leave +her, she would not consent, then they both got into the cab and were driven +away together.” +</p> + +<p> +The officials were now listening with all ears. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me,” said the Chief, “quick, this woman—what was she like? Did you get +her description?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tall, slight, well formed, dressed all in black. Her face—it was a policeman +who saw her, and he said she was good-looking, dark, brunette, black hair.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the maid herself!” cried the little Chief, springing up and slapping his +thigh in exuberant glee. “The maid! the missing maid!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p> +The joy of the Chief of Detectives at having thus come, as he supposed, upon +the track of the missing maid, Hortense Petitpré, was somewhat dashed by the +doubts freely expressed by the Judge as to the result of any search. Since +Block’s return, M. Beaumont le Hardi had developed strong symptoms of +discontent and disapproval at his colleague’s proceedings. +</p> + +<p> +“But if it was this Hortense Petitpré how did she get there, by the bridge +Henri Quatre, when we thought to find her somewhere down the line? It cannot be +the same woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” interposed Block. “May I say one word? I +believe I can supply some interesting information about Hortense Petitpré. I +understand that some one like her was seen here in the station not more than an +hour ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Peste!</i> Why were we not told this sooner?” cried the Chief, impetuously. +</p> + +<p> +“Who saw her? Did he speak to her? Call him in; let us see how much he knows.” +</p> + +<p> +The man was summoned, one of the subordinate railway officials, who made a +specific report. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, he had seen a tall, slight, neat-looking woman, dressed entirely in black, +who, according to her account, had arrived at 10.30 by the slow local train +from Dijon. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Fichtre!</i>” said the Chief, angrily; “and this is the first we have heard +of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Monsieur was much occupied at the time, and, indeed, then we had not heard of +your inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +“I notified the station-master quite early, two or three hours since, about 9 +A.M. This is most exasperating!” +</p> + +<p> +“Instructions to look out for this woman have only just reached us, monsieur. +There were certain formalities, I suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +For once the detective cursed in his heart the red-tape, roundabout ways of +French officialism. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well! Tell me about her,” he said, with a resignation he did not feel. +“Who saw her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I, monsieur. I spoke to her myself. She was on the outside of the station, +alone, unprotected, in a state of agitation and alarm. I went up and offered my +services. Then she told me she had come from Dijon, that friends who were to +have met her had not appeared. I suggested that I should put her into a cab and +send her to her destination. But she was afraid of losing her friends, and +preferred to wait.” +</p> + +<p> +“A fine story! Did she appear to know what had happened? Had she heard of the +murder?” +</p> + +<p> +“Something, monsieur.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who could have told her? Did you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not I. But she knew.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was not that in itself suspicious? The fact has not yet been made public.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was in the air, monsieur. There was a general impression that something had +happened. That was to be seen on every face, in the whispered talk, the +movement to and fro of the police and the guards.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she speak of it, or refer to it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only to ask if the murderer was known; whether the passengers had been +detained; whether there was any inquiry in progress; and then—” +</p> + +<p> +“What then?” +</p> + +<p> +“This gentleman,” pointing to Block, “came out, accompanied by another. They +passed pretty close to us, and I noticed that the lady slipped quickly on one +side.” +</p> + +<p> +“She recognized her confederate, of course, but did not wish to be seen just +then. Did he, the person with Block here, see her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly, I think; it was all so quick, and they were gone, in a minute, to the +cab-stand.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did your woman do?” +</p> + +<p> +“She seemed to have changed her mind all at once, and declared she would not +wait for her friends. Now she was in quite a hurry to go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course! and left you like a fool planted there. I suppose she took a cab +and followed the others, Block here and his companion.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe she did. I saw her cab close behind theirs.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is too late to lament this now,” said the Chief, after a short pause, +looking at his colleagues. “At least it confirms our ideas, and brings us to +certain definite conclusions. We must lay hands on these two. Their guilt is +all but established. Their own acts condemn them. They must be arrested without +a moment’s delay.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you can find them!” suggested the Judge, with a very perceptible sneer. +</p> + +<p> +“That we shall certainly do. Trust to Block, who is very nearly concerned. His +future depends on his success. You quite understand that, my man?” +</p> + +<p> +Block made a gesture half-deprecating, half-confident. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not despair, gentlemen; and if I might make so bold, sir, I will ask you +to assist? If you would give orders direct from the Prefecture to make the +round of the cab-stands, to ask of all the agents in charge the information we +need? Before night we shall have heard from the cabman who drove them what +became of this couple, and so get our birds themselves, or a point of fresh +departure.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you, Block, where shall you go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Where I left him, or rather where he left me,” replied the inspector, with an +attempt at wit, which fell quite flat, being extinguished by a frigid look from +the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“Go,” said M. Floçon, briefly and severely, to his subordinate; “and remember +that you have now to justify your retention on the force.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, turning to M. Beaumont le Hardi, the Chief went on pleasantly: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, M. le Juge, it promises, I think; it is all fairly satisfactory, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry I cannot agree with you,” replied the Judge, harshly. “On the +contrary, I consider that we—or more exactly you, for neither I nor M. Garraud +accept any share in it—you have so far failed, and miserably.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, M. le Juge, you are too severe,” protested M. Floçon, quite +humbly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Look at it from all points of view. What have we got? What have we +gained? Nothing, or, if anything, it is of the smallest, and it is already +jeopardized, if not absolutely lost.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have at least gained the positive assurance of the guilt of certain +individuals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whom you have allowed to slip through your fingers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, not so, M. le Juge! We have one under surveillance. My man Galipaud is +there at the hotel watching the Countess.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do not talk to me of your men, M. Floçon,” angrily interposed the Judge. “One +of them has given us a touch of his quality. Why should not the other be +equally foolish? I quite expect to hear that the Countess also has gone, that +would be the climax!” +</p> + +<p> +“It shall not happen. I will take the warrant and arrest her now, at once, +myself,” cried M. Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that will be something, yet not much. Yes, she is only one, and not to +my mind the most criminal. We do not know as yet the exact responsibility of +each, the exact measure of their guilt; but I do not myself believe that the +Countess was a prime mover, or, indeed, more than an accessory. She was drawn +into it, perhaps involved, how or why we cannot know, but possibly by +fortuitous circumstances that put an unavoidable pressure upon her; a +consenting party, but under protest. That is my view of the lady.” +</p> + +<p> +M. Floçon shook his head. Prepossessions with him were tenacious, and he had +made up his mind about the Countess’s guilt. +</p> + +<p> +“When you again interrogate her, M. le Juge, by the light of your present +knowledge, I believe you will think otherwise. She will confess,—you will make +her, your skill is unrivalled,—and you will then admit, M. le Juge, that I was +right in my suspicions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, well, produce her! We shall see,” said the Judge, somewhat mollified by M. +Floçon’s fulsome flattery. +</p> + +<p> +“I will bring her to your chamber of instruction within an hour, M. le Juge,” +said the detective, very confidently. +</p> + +<p> +But he was doomed to disappointment in this as he was in other respects. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p> +Let us go back a little in point of time, and follow the movements of Sir +Charles Collingham. +</p> + +<p> +It was barely 11 A.M. when he left the Lyons Station with his brother, the +Reverend Silas, and the military attaché, Colonel Papillon. They paused for a +moment outside the station while the baggage was being got together. +</p> + +<p> +“See, Silas,” said the General, pointing to the clock, “you will have plenty of +time for the 11.50 train to Calais for London, but you must hurry up and drive +straight across Paris to the Nord. I suppose he can go, Jack?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, as he has promised to return if called upon.” +</p> + +<p> +And Mr. Collingham promptly took advantage of the permission. +</p> + +<p> +“But you, General, what are your plans?” went on the attaché. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall go to the club first, get a room, dress, and all that. Then call at +the Hôtel Madagascar. There is a lady there,—one of our party, in fact,—and I +should like to ask after her. She may be glad of my services.” +</p> + +<p> +“English? Is there anything we can do for her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, she is an Englishwoman, but the widow of an Italian—the Contessa di +Castagneto.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but I know her!” said Papillon. “I remember her in Rome two or three years +ago. A deuced pretty woman, very much admired, but she was in deep mourning +then, and went out very little. I wished she had gone out more. There were lots +of men ready to fall at her feet.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were in Rome, then, some time back? Did you ever come across a man there, +Quadling, the banker?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I did. Constantly. He was a good deal about—a rather free-living, +self-indulgent sort of chap. And now you mention his name, I recollect they +said he was much smitten by this particular lady, the Contessa di Castagneto.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did she encourage him?” “Lord! how can I tell? Who shall say how a woman’s +fancy falls? It might have suited her too. They said she was not in very good +circumstances, and he was thought to be a rich man. Of course we know better +than that now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why <i>now?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you heard? It was in the <i>Figaro</i> yesterday, and in all the Paris +papers. Quadling’s bank has gone to smash; he has bolted with all the ‘ready’ +he could lay hands upon.” +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t get far, then!” cried Sir Charles. “You look surprised, Jack. Didn’t +they tell you? This Quadling was the man murdered in the sleeping-car. It was +no doubt for the money he carried with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it Quadling? My word! what a terrible Nemesis. Well, <i>nil nisi +bonum</i>, but I never thought much of the chap, and your friend the Countess +has had an escape. But now, sir, I must be moving. My engagement is for twelve +noon. If you want me, mind you send—207 Rue Miromesnil, or to the Embassy; but +let us arrange to meet this evening, eh? Dinner and a theatre—what do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +Then Colonel Papillon rode off, and the General was driven to the Boulevard des +Capucines, having much to occupy his thoughts by the way. +</p> + +<p> +It did not greatly please him to have this story of the Countess’s relations +with Quadling, as first hinted at by the police, endorsed now by his friend +Papillon. Clearly she had kept up her acquaintance, her intimacy to the very +last: why otherwise should she have received him, alone, been closeted with him +for an hour or more on the very eve of his flight? It was a clandestine +acquaintance too, or seemed so, for Sir Charles, although a frequent visitor at +her house, had never met Quadling there. +</p> + +<p> +What did it all mean? And yet, what, after all, did it matter to him? +</p> + +<p> +A good deal really more than he chose to admit to himself, even now, when +closely questioning his secret heart. The fact was, the Countess had made a +very strong impression on him from the first. He had admired her greatly during +the past winter at Rome, but then it was only a passing fancy, as he +thought,—the pleasant platonic flirtation of a middle-aged man, who never +expected to inspire or feel a great love. Only now, when he had shared a +serious trouble with her, had passed through common difficulties and dangers, +he was finding what accident may do—how it may fan a first liking into a +stronger flame. It was absurd, of course. He was fifty-one, he had weathered +many trifling affairs of the heart, and here he was, bowled over at last, and +by a woman he was not certain was entitled to his respect. +</p> + +<p> +What was he to do? +</p> + +<p> +The answer came at once and unhesitatingly, as it would to any other honest, +chivalrous gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“By George, I’ll stick to her through thick and thin! I’ll trust her whatever +happens or has happened, come what may. Such a woman as that is above +suspicion. She <i>must</i> be straight. I should be a beast and a blackguard +double distilled to think anything else. I am sure she can put all right with a +word, can explain everything when she chooses. I will wait till she does.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus fortified and decided, Sir Charles took his way to the Hôtel Madagascar +about noon. At the desk he inquired for the Countess, and begged that his card +might be sent up to her. The man looked at it, then at the visitor, as he stood +there waiting rather impatiently, then again at the card. At last he walked out +and across the inner courtyard of the hotel to the office. Presently the +manager came back, bowing low, and, holding the card in his hand, began a +desultory conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” cried the General, angrily cutting short all references to the +weather and the number of English visitors in Paris. “But be so good as to let +Madame la Comtesse know that I have called.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, to be sure! I came to tell Monsieur le Général that madame will hardly be +able to see him. She is indisposed, I believe. At any rate, she does not +receive to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to that, we shall see. I will take no answer except direct from her. Take +or send up my card without further delay. I insist! Do you hear?” said the +General, so fiercely that the manager turned tail and fled up-stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps he yielded his ground the more readily that he saw over the General’s +shoulder the figure of Galipaud the detective looming in the archway. It had +been arranged that, as it was not advisable to have the inspector hanging about +the courtyard of the hotel, the clerk or the manager should keep watch over the +Countess and detain any visitors who might call upon her. Galipaud had taken +post at a wine-shop over the way, and was to be summoned whenever his presence +was thought necessary. +</p> + +<p> +There he was now, standing just behind the General, and for the present unseen +by him. +</p> + +<p> +But then a telegraph messenger came in and up to the desk. He held the usual +blue envelope in his hand, and called out the name on the address: +</p> + +<p> +“Castagneto. Contessa Castagneto.” +</p> + +<p> +At sound of which the General turned sharply, to find Galipaud advancing and +stretching out his hand to take the message. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me,” cried Sir Charles, promptly interposing and understanding the +situation at a glance. “I am just going up to see that lady. Give me the +telegram.” +</p> + +<p> +Galipaud would have disputed the point, when the General, who had already +recognized him, said quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Inspector, you have no earthly right to it. I guess why you are here, +but you are not entitled to interfere with private correspondence. Stand back;” +and seeing the detective hesitate, he added peremptorily: +</p> + +<p> +“Enough of this. I order you to get out of the way. And be quick about it!” +</p> + +<p> +The manager now returned, and admitted that Madame la Comtesse would receive +her visitor. A few seconds more, and the General was admitted into her +presence. +</p> + +<p> +“How truly kind of you to call!” she said at once, coming up to him with both +hands outstretched and frank gladness in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, she was very attractive in her plain, dark travelling dress draping her +tall, graceful figure; her beautiful, pale face was enhanced by the rich tones +of her dark brown, wavy hair, while just a narrow band of white muslin at her +wrists and neck set off the dazzling clearness of her skin. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I came. I thought you might want me, or might like to know the +latest news,” he answered, as he held her hands in his for a few seconds longer +than was perhaps absolutely necessary. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, do tell me! Is there anything fresh?” There was a flash of crimson colour +in her cheek, which faded almost instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“This much. They have found out who the man was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really? Positively? Whom do they say now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I had better not tell you. It may surprise you, shock you to hear. I +think you knew him—” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing can well shock me now. I have had too many shocks already. Who do they +think it is?” +</p> + +<p> +“A Mr. Quadling, a banker, who is supposed to have absconded from Rome.” +</p> + +<p> +She received the news so impassively, with such strange self-possession, that +for a moment he was disappointed in her. But then, quick to excuse, he +suggested: +</p> + +<p> +“You may have already heard?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; the police people at the railway station told me they thought it was Mr. +Quadling.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you knew him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. They were my bankers, much to my sorrow. I shall lose heavily by +their failure.” +</p> + +<p> +“That also has reached you, then?” interrupted the General, hastily and +somewhat uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure. The man told me of it himself. Indeed, he came to me the very day +I was leaving Rome, and made me an offer—a most obliging offer.” +</p> + +<p> +“To share his fallen fortunes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Charles Collingham! How can you? That creature!” The contempt in her tone +was immeasurable. +</p> + +<p> +“I had heard—well, some one said that—” +</p> + +<p> +“Speak out, General; I shall not be offended. I know what you mean. It is +perfectly true that the man once presumed to pester me with his attentions. But +I would as soon have looked at a courier or a cook. And now—” +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. The General felt on delicate ground. He could ask no +questions—anything more must come from the Countess herself. +</p> + +<p> +“But let me tell you what his offer was. I don’t know why I listened to it. I +ought to have at once informed the police. I wish I had.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might have saved him from his fate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Every villain gets his deserts in the long run,” she said, with bitter +sententiousness. “And this Mr. Quadling is—But wait, you shall know him better. +He came to me to propose—what do you think?—that he—his bank, I mean—should +secretly repay me the amount of my deposit, all the money I had in it. To join +me in his fraud, in fact—” +</p> + +<p> +“The scoundrel! Upon my word, he has been well served. And that was the last +you saw of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I saw him on the journey, at Turin, at Modane, at—Oh, Sir Charles, do not ask +me any more about him!” she cried, with a sudden outburst, half-grief, +half-dread. “I cannot tell you—I am obliged to—I—I—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then do not say another word,” he said, promptly. +</p> + +<p> +“There are other things. But my lips are sealed—at least for the present. You +do not—will not think any worse of me?” +</p> + +<p> +She laid her hand gently on his arm, and his closed over it with such evident +good-will that a blush crimsoned her cheek. It still hung there, and deepened +when he said, warmly: +</p> + +<p> +“As if anything could make me do that! Don’t you know—you may not, but let me +assure you, Countess—that nothing could happen to shake me in the high opinion +I have of you. Come what may, I shall trust you, believe in you, think well of +you—always.” +</p> + +<p> +“How sweet of you to say that! and now, of all times,” she murmured quite +softly, and looking up for the first time, shyly, to meet his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Her hand was still on his arm, covered by his, and she nestled so close to him +that it was easy, natural, indeed, for him to slip his other arm around her +waist and draw her to him. +</p> + +<p> +“And now—of all times—may I say one word more?” he whispered in her ear. “Will +you give me the right to shelter and protect you, to stand by you, share your +troubles, or keep them from you—?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, no, indeed, not now!” She looked up appealingly, the tears brimming up +in her bright eyes. “I cannot, will not accept this sacrifice. You are only +speaking out of your true-hearted chivalry. You must not join yourself to me, +you must not involve yourself—” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped her protests by the oldest and most effectual method known in such +cases. That first sweet kiss sealed the compact so quickly entered into between +them. +</p> + +<p> +And after that she surrendered at discretion. There was no more hesitation or +reluctance; she accepted his love as he had offered it, freely, with whole +heart and soul, crept up under his sheltering wing like a storm-beaten dove +reëntering the nest, and there, cooing softly, “My knight—my own true knight +and lord,” yielded herself willingly and unquestioningly to his tender +caresses. +</p> + +<p> +Such moments snatched from the heart of pressing anxieties are made doubly +sweet by their sharp contrast with a background of trouble. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p> +They sat there, these two, hand locked in hand, saying little, satisfied now to +be with each other and their new-found love. The time flew by far too fast, +till at last Sir Charles, with a half-laugh, suggested: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know, dearest Countess—” +</p> + +<p> +She corrected him in a soft, low voice. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Sabine—Charles.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sabine, darling. It is very prosaic of me, perhaps, but do you know that I am +nearly starved? I came on here at once. I have had no breakfast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor have I,” she answered, smiling. “I was thinking of it when—when you +appeared like a whirlwind, and since then, events have moved so fast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sorry, Sabine? Would you rather go back to—to—before?” She made a +pretty gesture of closing his traitor lips with her small hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Not for worlds. But you soldiers—you are terrible men! Who can resist you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! It is you who are irresistible. But there, why not put on your jacket and +let us go out to lunch somewhere—Durand’s, Voisin’s, the Café de le Paix? Which +do you prefer?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose they will not try to stop us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who should try?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The people of the hotel—the police—I cannot exactly say whom; but I dread +something of the sort. I don’t quite understand that manager. He has been up to +see me several times, and he spoke rather oddly, rather rudely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he shall answer for it,” snorted Sir Charles, hotly. “It is the fault of +that brute of a detective, I suppose. Still they would hardly dare—” +</p> + +<p> +“A detective? What? Here? Are you sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly sure. It is one of those from the Lyons Station. I knew him again +directly, and he was inclined to be interfering. Why, I caught him trying—but +that reminds me—I rescued this telegram from his clutches.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the little blue envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to her, +kissing the tips of her fingers as she took it from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +A sudden ejaculation of dismay escaped her, when, after rather carelessly +tearing the message open, she had glanced at it. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” he asked in eager solicitude. “May I not know?” +</p> + +<p> +She made no offer to give him the telegram, and said in a faltering voice, and +with much hesitation of manner, “I do not know. I hardly think—of course I do +not like to withhold anything, not now. And yet, this is a business which +concerns me only, I am afraid. I ought not to drag you into it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What concerns you is very much my business, too. I do not wish to force your +confidence, still—” +</p> + +<p> +She gave him the telegram quite obediently, with a little sigh of relief, glad +to realize now, for the first time after many years, that there was some one to +give her orders and take the burden of trouble off her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +He read it, but did not understand it in the least. It ran: “I must see you +immediately, and beg you will come. You will find Hortense here. She is giving +trouble. You only can deal with her. Do not delay. Come at once, or we must go +to you.—Ripaldi, Hôtel Ivoire, Rue Bellechasse.” +</p> + +<p> +“What does this mean? Who sends it? Who is Ripaldi?” asked Sir Charles, rather +brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +“He—he—oh, Charles, I shall have to go. Anything would be better than his +coming here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ripaldi? Haven’t I heard the name? He was one of those in the sleeping-car, I +think? The Chief of the Detective Police called it out once or twice. Am I not +right? Please tell me—am I not right?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; this man was there with the rest of us. A dark man, who sat near the +door—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, to be sure. But what—what in Heaven’s name has he to do with you? How does +he dare to send you such an impudent message as this? Surely, Sabine, you will +tell me? You will admit that I have a right to ask?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course. I will tell you, Charles, everything; but not here—not now. It +must be on the way. I have been very wrong, very foolish—but oh, come, come, do +let us be going. I am so afraid he might—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I may go with you? You do not object to that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I much prefer it—much. Do let us make haste!” +</p> + +<p> +She snatched up her sealskin jacket, and held it to him prettily, that he might +help her into it, which he did neatly and cleverly, smoothing her great +puffed-out sleeves under each shoulder of the coat, still talking eagerly and +taking no toll for his trouble as she stood patiently, passively before him. +</p> + +<p> +“And this Hortense? It is your maid, is it not—the woman who had taken herself +off? How comes it that she is with that Italian fellow? Upon my soul, I don’t +understand—not a little bit.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot explain that, either. It is most strange, most incomprehensible, but +we shall soon know. Please, Charles, please do not get impatient.” +</p> + +<p> +They passed together down into the hotel courtyard and across it, under the +archway which led past the clerk’s desk into the street. +</p> + +<p> +On seeing them, he came out hastily and placed himself in front, quite plainly +barring their egress. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, madame, one moment,” he said in a tone that was by no means conciliatory. +“The manager wants to speak to you; he told me to tell you, and stop you if you +went out.” +</p> + +<p> +“The manager can speak to madame when she returns,” interposed the General +angrily, answering for the Countess. +</p> + +<p> +“I have had my orders, and I cannot allow her—” +</p> + +<p> +“Stand aside, you scoundrel!” cried the General, blazing up; “or upon my soul I +shall give you such a lesson you will be sorry you were ever born.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the manager himself appeared in reinforcement, and the clerk +turned to him for protection and support. +</p> + +<p> +“I was merely giving madame your message, M. Auguste, when this gentleman +interposed, threatened me, maltreated me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, surely not; it is some mistake;” the manager spoke most suavely. “But +certainly I did wish to speak to madame. I wished to ask her whether she was +satisfied with her apartment. I find that the rooms she has generally occupied +have fallen vacant, in the nick of time. Perhaps madame would like to look at +them, and move?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, M. Auguste, you are very good; but at another time. I am very much +pressed just now. When I return in an hour or two, not now.” +</p> + +<p> +The manager was profuse in his apologies, and made no further difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, as you please, madame. Perfectly. By and by, later, when you choose.” +</p> + +<p> +The fact was, the desired result had been obtained. For now, on the far side +from where he had been watching, Galipaud appeared, no doubt in reply to some +secret signal, and the detective with a short nod in acknowledgment had +evidently removed his embargo. +</p> + +<p> +A cab was called, and Sir Charles, having put the Countess in, was turning to +give the driver his instructions, when a fresh complication arose. +</p> + +<p> +Some one coming round the corner had caught a glimpse of the lady disappearing +into the fiacre, and cried out from afar. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay! Stop! I want to speak to that lady; detain her.” It was the sharp voice +of little M. Floçon, whom most of those present, certainly the Countess and Sir +Charles, immediately recognized. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, no—don’t let them keep me—I cannot wait now,” she whispered in +earnest, urgent appeal. It was not lost on her loyal and devoted friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Go on!” he shouted to the cabman, with all the peremptory insistence of one +trained to give words of command. “Forward! As fast as you can drive. I’ll pay +you double fare. Tell him where to go, Sabine. I’ll follow—in less than no +time.” +</p> + +<p> +The fiacre rattled off at top speed, and the General turned to confront M. +Floçon. +</p> + +<p> +The little detective was white to the lips with rage and disappointment; but he +also was a man of promptitude, and before falling foul of this pestilent +Englishman, who had again marred his plans, he shouted to Galipaud— +</p> + +<p> +“Quick! After them! Follow her wherever she goes. Take this,”—he thrust a paper +into his subordinate’s hand. “It is a warrant for her arrest. Seize her +wherever you find her, and bring her to the Quai l’Horloge,” the euphemistic +title of the headquarters of the French police. +</p> + +<p> +The pursuit was started at once, and then the Chief turned upon Sir Charles. +“Now it is between us,” he said, fiercely. “You must account to me for what you +have done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must I?” answered the General, mockingly and with a little laugh. “It is +perfectly easy. Madame was in a hurry, so I helped her to get away. That was +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have traversed and opposed the action of the law. You have impeded me, the +Chief of the Detective Service, in the execution of my duty. It is not the +first time, but now you must answer for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me!” said the General in the same flippant, irritating tone. +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to accompany me now to the Prefecture.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if it does not suit me to go?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will have you carried there, bound, tied hand and foot, by the police, like +any common rapscallion taken in the act who resists the authority of an +officer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oho, you talk very big, sir. Perhaps you will be so obliging as to tell me +what I have done.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have connived at the escape of a criminal from justice—” +</p> + +<p> +“That lady? Psha!” +</p> + +<p> +“She is charged with a heinous crime—that in which you yourself were +implicated—the murder of that man on the train.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! You must be a stupid goose, to hint at such a thing! A lady of birth, +breeding, the highest respectability—impossible!” +</p> + +<p> +“All that has not prevented her from allying herself with base, common +wretches. I do not say she struck the blow, but I believe she inspired, +concerted, approved it, leaving her confederates to do the actual deed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Confederates?” +</p> + +<p> +“The man Ripaldi, your Italian fellow traveller; her maid, Hortense Petitpré, +who was missing this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +The General was fairly staggered at this unexpected blow. Half an hour ago he +would have scouted the very thought, indignantly repelled the spoken words that +even hinted a suspicion of Sabine Castagneto. But that telegram, signed +Ripaldi, the introduction of the maid’s name, and the suggestion that she was +troublesome, the threat that if the Countess did not go, they would come to +her, and her marked uneasiness thereat—all this implied plainly the existence +of collusion, of some secret relations, some secret understanding between her +and the others. +</p> + +<p> +He could not entirely conceal the trouble that now overcame him; it certainly +did not escape so shrewd an observer as M. Floçon, who promptly tried to turn +it to good account. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, M. le Général,” he said, with much assumed <i>bonhomie</i>. “I can see +how it is with you, and you have my sincere sympathy. We are all of us liable +to be carried away, and there is much excuse for you in this. But now—believe +me, I am justified in saying it—now I tell you that our case is strong against +her, that it is not mere speculation, but supported by facts. Now surely you +will come over to our side?” +</p> + +<p> +“In what way?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us frankly all you know—where that lady has gone, help us to lay our +hands on her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your own people will do that. I heard you order that man to follow her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably; still I would rather have the information from you. It would satisfy +me of your good-will. I need not then proceed to extremities—” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly shall not give it you,” said the General, hotly. “Anything I know +about or have heard from the Contessa Castagneto is sacred; besides, I still +believe in her—thoroughly. Nothing you have said can shake me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I must ask you to accompany me to the Prefecture. You will come, I trust, +on my <i>invitation</i>.” The Chief spoke quietly, but with considerable +dignity, and he laid a slight stress upon the last word. +</p> + +<p> +“Meaning that if I do not, you will have resort to something stronger?” +</p> + +<p> +“That will be quite unnecessary, I am sure,—at least I hope so. Still—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go where you like, only I will tell you nothing more, not a single +word; and before I start, I must let my friends at the Embassy know where to +find me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, with all my heart,” said the little detective, shrugging his shoulders. +“We will call there on our way, and you can tell the porter. They will know +where to find us.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p> +Sir Charles Collingham and his escort, M. Floçon, entered a cab together and +were driven first to the Faubourg St. Honoré. The General tried hard to +maintain his nonchalance, but he was yet a little crestfallen at the turn +things had taken, and M. Floçon, who, on the other hand, was elated and +triumphant, saw it. But no words passed between them until they arrived at the +portals of the British Embassy, and the General handed out his card to the +magnificent porter who received them. +</p> + +<p> +“Kindly let Colonel Papillon have that without delay.” The General had written +a few words: “I have got into fresh trouble. Come on to me at the Police +Prefecture if you can spare the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Colonel is now in the Chancery: will not monsieur wait?” asked the porter, +with superb civility. +</p> + +<p> +But the detective would not suffer this, and interposed, answering abruptly for +Sir Charles: +</p> + +<p> +“No. It is impossible. We are going to the Quai l’Horloge. It is an urgent +matter.” +</p> + +<p> +The porter knew what the Quai l’Horloge meant, and he guessed intuitively who +was speaking. Every Frenchman can recognize a police officer, and has, as a +rule, no great opinion of him. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well!” now said the porter, curtly, as he banged the wicket-gate on the +retreating cab, and he did not hurry himself in giving the card to Colonel +Papillon. +</p> + +<p> +“Does this mean that I am a prisoner?” asked Sir Charles, his gorge rising, as +it did easily. +</p> + +<p> +“It means, monsieur, that you are in the hands of justice until your recent +conduct has been fully explained,” said the detective, with the air of a +despot. +</p> + +<p> +“But I protest—” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to hear no further observations, monsieur. You may reserve them till +you can give them to the right person.” +</p> + +<p> +The General’s temper was sorely ruffled. He did not like it at all; yet what +could he do? Prudence gained the day, and after a struggle he decided to +submit, lest worse might befall him. +</p> + +<p> +There was, in truth, worse to be encountered. It was very irksome to be in the +power of this now domineering little man on his own ground, and eager to show +his power. It was with a very bad grace that Sir Charles obeyed the curt orders +he received, to leave the cab, to enter at a side door of the Prefecture, to +follow this pompous conductor along the long vaulted passages of this rambling +building, up many flights of stone stairs, to halt obediently at his command +when at length they reached a closed door on an upper story. +</p> + +<p> +“It is here!” said M. Floçon, as he turned the handle unceremoniously without +knocking. “Enter.” +</p> + +<p> +A man was seated at a small desk in the centre of a big bare room, who rose at +once at the sight of M. Floçon, and bowed deferentially without speaking. +</p> + +<p> +“Baume,” said the Chief, shortly, “I wish to leave this gentleman with you. +Make him at home,”—the words were spoken in manifest irony,—“and when I call +you, bring him at once to my cabinet. You, monsieur, you will oblige me by +staying here.” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Charles nodded carelessly, took the first chair that offered, and sat down +by the fire. +</p> + +<p> +He was to all intents and purposes in custody, and he examined his gaoler at +first wrathfully, then curiously, struck with his rather strange figure and +appearance. Baume, as the Chief had called him, was a short, thick-set man with +a great shock head sunk in low between a pair of enormous shoulders, betokening +great physical strength; he stood on very thin but greatly twisted bow legs, +and the quaintness of his figure was emphasized by the short black blouse or +smock-frock he wore over his other clothes like a French artisan. +</p> + +<p> +He was a man of few words, and those not the most polite in tone, for when the +General began with a banal remark about the weather, M. Baume replied, shortly: +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to have no talk;” and when Sir Charles pulled out his cigarette-case, +as he did almost automatically from time to time when in any situation of +annoyance or perplexity, Baume raised his hand warningly and grunted: +</p> + +<p> +“Not allowed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I’ll be hanged if I don’t smoke in spite of every man jack of you!” cried +the General, hotly, rising from his seat and speaking unconsciously in English. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” asked Baume, gruffly. He was one of the detective staff, and was +only doing his duty according to his lights, and he said so with such an +injured air that the General was pacified, laughed, and relapsed into silence +without lighting his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +The time ran on, from minutes into nearly an hour, a very trying wait for Sir +Charles. There is always something irritating in doing antechamber work, in +kicking one’s heels in the waiting-room of any functionary or official, high or +low, and the General found it hard to possess himself in patience, when he +thought he was being thus ignominiously treated by a man like M. Floçon. All +the time, too, he was worrying himself about the Countess, wondering first how +she had fared; next, where she was just then; last of all, and longest, whether +it was possible for her to be mixed up in anything compromising or criminal. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly an electric bell struck in the room. There was a table telephone at +Baume’s elbow; he took up the handle, put the tube to his mouth and ear, got +his message answered, and then, rising, said abruptly to Sir Charles: +</p> + +<p> +“Come.” +</p> + +<p> +When the General was at last ushered into the presence of the Chief of the +Detective Police, he found to his satisfaction that Colonel Papillon was also +there, and at M. Floçon’s side sat the instructing judge, M. Beaumont le Hardi, +who, after waiting politely until the two Englishmen had exchanged greetings, +was the first to speak, and in apology. +</p> + +<p> +“You will, I trust, pardon us, M. le Général, for having detained you here and +so long. But there were, as we thought, good and sufficient reasons. If those +have now lost some of their cogency, we still stand by our action as having +been justifiable in the execution of our duty. We are now willing to let you go +free, because—because—” +</p> + +<p> +“We have caught the person, the lady you helped to escape,” blurted out the +detective, unable to resist making the point. +</p> + +<p> +“The Countess? Is she here, in custody? Never!” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly she is in custody, and in very close custody too,” went on M. +Floçon, gleefully. “<i>Au secret</i>, if you know what that means—in a cell +separate and apart, where no one is permitted to see or speak to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely not that? Jack—Papillon—this must not be. I beg of you, implore, +insist, that you will get his lordship to interpose.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, sir, how can I? You must not ask impossibilities. The Contessa Castagneto +is really an Italian subject now.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is English by birth, and whether or no, she is a woman, a high-bred lady; +and it is abominable, unheard-of, to subject her to such monstrous treatment,” +said the General. +</p> + +<p> +“But these gentlemen declare that they are fully warranted, that she has put +herself in the wrong—greatly, culpably in the wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe it!” cried the General, indignantly. “Not from these chaps, a +pack of idiots, always on the wrong tack! I don’t believe a word, not if they +swear.” +</p> + +<p> +“But they have documentary evidence—papers of the most damaging kind against +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where? How?” +</p> + +<p> +“He—M. le Juge—has been showing me a note-book;” and the General’s eyes, +following Jack Papillon’s, were directed to a small <i>carnet</i>, or +memorandum-book, which the Judge, interpreting the glance, was tapping +significantly with his finger. +</p> + +<p> +Then the Judge said blandly, “It is easy to perceive that you protest, M. le +Général, against that lady’s arrest. Is it so? Well, we are not called upon to +justify it to you, not in the very least. But we are dealing with a brave man, +a gentleman, an officer of high rank and consideration, and you shall know +things that we are not bound to tell, to you or to any one.” +</p> + +<p> +“First,” he continued, holding up the note-book, “do you know what this is? +Have you ever seen it before?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am dimly conscious of the fact, and yet I cannot say when or where.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is the property of one of your fellow travellers—an Italian called +Ripaldi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ripaldi?” said the General, remembering with some uneasiness that he had seen +the name at the bottom of the Countess’s telegram. “Ah! now I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had heard of it, then? In what connection?” asked the Judge, a little +carelessly, but it was a suddenly planned pitfall. +</p> + +<p> +“I now understand,” replied the General, perfectly on his guard, “why the +note-book was familiar to me. I had seen it in that man’s hands in the +waiting-room. He was writing in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed? A favourite occupation evidently. He was fond of confiding in that +note-book, and committed to it much that he never expected would see the +light—his movements, intentions, ideas, even his inmost thoughts. The +book—which he no doubt lost inadvertently is very incriminating to himself and +his friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you imply?” hastily inquired Sir Charles. +</p> + +<p> +“Simply that it is on that which is written here that we base one part, perhaps +the strongest, of our case against the Countess. It is strangely but +convincingly corroborative of our suspicions against her.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I look at it for myself?” went on the General in a tone of contemptuous +disbelief. +</p> + +<p> +“It is in Italian. Perhaps you can read that language? If not, I have +translated the most important passages,” said the Judge, offering some other +papers. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you; if you will permit me, I should prefer to look at the original;” +and the General, without more ado, stretched out his hand and took the +note-book. +</p> + +<p> +What he read there, as he quickly scanned its pages, shall be told in the next +chapter. It will be seen that there were things written that looked very +damaging to his dear friend, Sabine Castagneto. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p> +Ripaldi’s diary—its ownership plainly shown by the record of his name in full, +Natale Ripaldi, inside the cover—was a commonplace note-book bound in shabby +drab cloth, its edges and corners strengthened with some sort of white metal. +The pages were of coarse paper, lined blue and red, and they were dog-eared and +smirched as though they had been constantly turned over and used. +</p> + +<p> +The earlier entries were little more than a record of work to do or done. +</p> + +<p> +“Jan. 11. To call at Café di Roma, 12.30. Beppo will meet me. +</p> + +<p> +“Jan. 13. Traced M. L. Last employed as a model at S.’s studio, Palazzo B. +</p> + +<p> +“Jan. 15. There is trouble brewing at the Circulo Bonafede; Louvaih, Malatesta, +and the Englishman Sprot, have joined it. All are noted Anarchists. +</p> + +<p> +“Jan. 20. Mem., pay Trattore. The Bestia will not wait. X. is also pressing, +and Mariuccia. Situation tightens. +</p> + +<p> +“Jan. 23. Ordered to watch Q. Could I work him? No. Strong doubts of his +solvency. +</p> + +<p> +“Feb. 10, 11, 12. After Q. No grounds yet. +</p> + +<p> +“Feb. 27. Q. keeps up good appearance. Any mistake? Shall I try him? Sorely +pressed. X. threatens me with Prefettura. +</p> + +<p> +“March 1. Q. in difficulties. Out late every night. Is playing high; poor luck. +</p> + +<p> +“March 3. Q. means mischief. Preparing for a start? +</p> + +<p> +“March 10. Saw Q. about, here, there, everywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a brief account of Quadling’s movements on the day before his +departure from Rome, very much as they have been described in a previous +chapter. These were made mostly in the form of reflections, conjectures, hopes, +and fears; hurry-scurry of pursuit had no doubt broken the immediate record of +events, and these had been entered next day in the train. +</p> + +<p> +“March 17 (the day previous). He has not shown up. I thought to see him at the +buffet at Genoa. The conductor took him his coffee to the car. I hoped to have +begun an acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +“12.30. Breakfasted at Turin. Q. did not come to table. Found him hanging about +outside restaurant. Spoke; got short reply. Wishes to avoid observation, I +suppose. +</p> + +<p> +“But he speaks to others. He has claimed acquaintance with madame’s lady’s +maid, and he wants to speak to the mistress. ‘Tell her I must speak to her,’ I +heard him say, as I passed close to them. Then they separated hurriedly. +</p> + +<p> +“At Modane he came to the Douane, and afterwards into the restaurant. He bowed +across the table to the lady. She hardly recognized him, which is odd. Of +course she must know him; then why—? There is something between them, and the +maid is in it. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall <i>I</i> do? I could spoil any game of theirs if I stepped in. What +are they after? His money, no doubt. +</p> + +<p> +“So am I; I have the best right to it, for I can do most for him. He is +absolutely in my power, and he’ll see that—he’s no fool—directly he knows who I +am, and why I’m here. It will be worth his while to buy me off, if I’m ready to +sell myself, and my duty, and the Prefettura—and why shouldn’t I? What better +can I do? Shall I ever have such a chance again? Twenty, thirty, forty thousand +lire, more, even, at one stroke; why, it’s a fortune! I could go to the +Republic, to America, North or South, send for Mariuccia—no, <i>cospetto!</i> +I will continue free! I will spend the money on myself, as I alone will have +earned it, and at such risk. +</p> + +<p> +“I have worked it out thus: +</p> + +<p> +“I will go to him at the very last, just before we are reaching Paris. Tell +him, threaten him with arrest, then give him his chance of escape. No fear that +he won’t accept it; he <i>must</i>, whatever he may have settled with the +others. <i>Altro!</i> I snap my fingers at them. He has most to fear from me.” +</p> + +<p> +The next entries were made after some interval, a long interval,—no doubt, +after the terrible deed had been done,—and the words were traced with trembling +fingers, so that the writing was most irregular and scarcely legible. +</p> + +<p> +“Ugh! I am still trembling with horror and fear. I cannot get it out of my +mind; I never shall. Why, what tempted me? How could I bring myself to do it? +</p> + +<p> +“But for these two women—they are fiends, furies—it would never have been +necessary. Now one of them has escaped, and the other—she is here, so +cold-blooded, so self-possessed and quiet—who would have thought it of her? +That she, a lady of rank and high breeding, gentle, delicate, tender-hearted. +Tender? the fiend! Oh, shall I ever forget her? +</p> + +<p> +“And now she has me in her power! But have I not her also? We are in the same +boat—we must sink or swim, together. We are equally bound, I to her, she to me. +What are we to do? How shall we meet inquiry? <i>Santissima Donna!</i> why did +I not risk it, and climb out like the maid? It was terrible for the moment, but +the worst would have been over, and now—” +</p> + +<p> +There was yet more, scribbled in the same faltering, agitated handwriting, and +from the context the entries had been made in the waiting-room of the railroad +station. +</p> + +<p> +“I must attract her attention. She will not look my way. I want her to +understand that I have something special to say to her, and that, as we are +forbidden to speak, I am writing it herein—that she must contrive to take the +book from me and read unobserved. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Cospetto!</i> she is stupid! Has fear dazed her entirely? No matter, I +will set it all down.” +</p> + +<p> +Now followed what the police deemed such damaging evidence. +</p> + +<p> +“Countess. Remember. Silence—absolute silence. Not a word as to who I am, or +what is common knowledge to us both. It is done. That cannot be undone. Be +brave, resolute; admit nothing. Stick to it that you know nothing, heard +nothing. Deny that you knew <i>him</i>, or me. Swear you slept soundly the +night through, make some excuse, say you were drugged, anything, only be on +your guard, and say nothing about me. I warn you. Leave me alone. Or—but your +interests are my interests; we must stand or fall together. Afterwards I will +meet you—I <i>must</i> meet you somewhere. If we miss at the station front, +write to me Poste Restante, Grand Hôtel, and give me an address. This is +imperative. Once more, silence and discretion.” +</p> + +<p> +This ended the writing in the note-book, and the whole perusal occupied Sir +Charles from fifteen to twenty minutes, during which the French officials +watched his face closely, and his friend Colonel Papillon anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +But the General’s mask was impenetrable, and at the end of his reading he +turned back to read and re-read many pages, holding the book to the light, and +seeming to examine the contents very curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” said the Judge at last, when he met the General’s eye. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you lay great store by this evidence?” asked the General in a calm, +dispassionate voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not natural that we should? Is it not strongly, conclusively +incriminating?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be so, of course, if it were to be depended upon. But as to that I +have my doubts, and grave doubts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” interposed the detective; “that is mere conjecture, mere assertion. Why +should not the book be believed? It is perfectly genuine—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait, sir,” said the General, raising his hand. “Have you not noticed—surely +it cannot have escaped so astute a police functionary—that the entries are not +all in the same handwriting?” +</p> + +<p> +“What! Oh, that is too absurd!” cried both the officials in a breath. +</p> + +<p> +They saw at once that if this discovery were admitted to be an absolute fact, +the whole drift of their conclusions must be changed. +</p> + +<p> +“Examine the book for yourselves. To my mind it is perfectly clear and beyond +all question,” insisted Sir Charles. “I am quite positive that the last pages +were written by a different hand from the first.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p> +For several minutes both the Judge and the detective pored over the note-book, +examining page after page, shaking their heads, and declining to accept the +evidence of their eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot see it,” said the Judge at last; adding reluctantly, “No doubt there +is a difference, but it is to be explained.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” put in M. Floçon. “When he wrote the early part, he was calm and +collected; the last entries, so straggling, so ragged, and so badly written, +were made when he was fresh from the crime, excited, upset, little master of +himself. Naturally he would use a different hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or he would wish to disguise it. It was likely he would so wish,” further +remarked the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“You admit, then, that there is a difference?” argued the General, shrewdly. +“But there is more than a disguise. The best disguise leaves certain +unchangeable features. Some letters, capital G’s, H’s, and others, will betray +themselves through the best disguise. I know what I am saying. I have studied +the subject of handwriting; it interests me. These are the work of two +different hands. Call in an expert; you will find I am right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said the Judge, after a pause, “let us grant your position for +the moment. What do you deduce? What do you infer therefrom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Surely you can see what follows—what this leads us to?” said Sir Charles, +rather disdainfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I have formed an opinion—yes, but I should like to see if it coincides with +yours. You think—” +</p> + +<p> +“I <i>know</i>,” corrected the General. “I know that, as two persons wrote in +that book, either it is not Ripaldi’s book, or the last of them was not +Ripaldi. I saw the last writer at his work, saw him with my own eyes. Yet he +did not write with Ripaldi’s hand—this is incontestable, I am sure of it, I +will swear it—<i>ergo</i>, he is not Ripaldi.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you should have known this at the time,” interjected M. Floçon, fiercely. +“Why did you not discover the change of identity? You should have seen that +this was not Ripaldi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me. I did not know the man. I had not noticed him particularly on the +journey. There was no reason why I should. I had no communication, no dealings, +with any of my fellow passengers except my brother and the Countess.” +</p> + +<p> +“But some of the others would surely have remarked the change?” went on the +Judge, greatly puzzled. “That alone seems enough to condemn your theory, M. le +General.” +</p> + +<p> +“I take my stand on fact, not theory,” stoutly maintained Sir Charles, “and I +am satisfied I am right.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if that was not Ripaldi, who was it? Who would wish to masquerade in his +dress and character, to make entries of that sort, as if under his hand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Some one determined to divert suspicion from himself to others—” +</p> + +<p> +“But stay—does he not plainly confess his own guilt?” +</p> + +<p> +“What matter if he is not Ripaldi? Directly the inquiry was over, he could +steal away and resume his own personality—that of a man supposed to be dead, +and therefore safe from all interference and future pursuit.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean—Upon my word, I compliment you, M. le Général. It is really +ingenious! remarkable, indeed! superb!” cried the Judge, and only professional +jealousy prevented M. Floçon from conceding the same praise. +</p> + +<p> +“But how—what—I do not understand,” asked Colonel Papillon in amazement. His +wits did not travel quite so fast as those of his companions. +</p> + +<p> +“Simply this, my dear Jack,” explained the General: “Ripaldi must have tried to +blackmail Quadling, as he proposed, and Quadling turned the tables on him. They +fought, no doubt, and Quadling killed him, possibly in self-defence. He would +have said so, but in his peculiar position as an absconding defaulter he did +not dare. That is how I read it, and I believe that now these gentlemen are +disposed to agree with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“In theory, certainly,” said the Judge, heartily. “But oh! for some more +positive proof of this change of character! If we could only identify the +corpse, prove clearly that it is not Quadling. And still more, if we had not +let this so-called Ripaldi slip through our fingers! You will never find him, +M. Floçon, never.” +</p> + +<p> +The detective hung his head in guilty admission of this reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“We may help you in both these difficulties, gentlemen,” said Sir Charles, +pleasantly. “My friend here, Colonel Papillon, can speak as to the man +Quadling. He knew him well in Rome, a year or two ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please wait one moment only;” the detective touched a bell, and briefly +ordered two fiacres to the door at once. +</p> + +<p> +“That is right, M. Floçon,” said the Judge. “We will all go to the Morgue. The +body is there by now. You will not refuse your assistance, monsieur?” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment. As to the other matter, M. le General?” went on M. Floçon. “Can +you help us to find this miscreant, whoever he may be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The man who calls himself Ripaldi is to be found—or, at least, you would +have found him an hour or so ago—at the Hotel Ivoire, Rue Bellechasse. But time +has been lost, I fear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nevertheless, we will send there.” +</p> + +<p> +“The woman Hortense was also with him when last I heard of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know?” began the detective, suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Psha!” interrupted the Judge; “that will keep. This is the time for action, +and we owe too much to the General to distrust him now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you; I am pleased to hear you say that,” went on Sir Charles. “But if I +have been of some service to you, perhaps you owe me a little in return. That +poor lady! Think what she is suffering. Surely, to oblige me, you will now set +her free?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, monsieur, I fear—I do not see how, consistently with my +duty”—protested the Judge. +</p> + +<p> +“At least allow her to return to her hotel. She can remain there at your +disposal. I will promise you that.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you answer for her?” +</p> + +<p> +“She will do what I ask, I think, if I may send her just two or three lines.” +</p> + +<p> +The Judge yielded, smiling at the General’s urgency, and shrewdly guessing what +it implied. +</p> + +<p> +Then the three departures from the Prefecture took place within a short time of +each other. +</p> + +<p> +A posse of police went to arrest Ripaldi; the Countess returned to the Hotel +Madagascar; and the Judge’s party started for the Morgue,—only a short +journey,—where they were presently received with every mark of respect and +consideration. +</p> + +<p> +The keeper, or officer in charge, was summoned, and came out bareheaded to the +fiacre, bowing low before his distinguished visitors. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, La Pêche,” said M. Floçon in a sharp voice. “We have come for an +identification. The body from the Lyons Station—he of the murder in the +sleeping-car—is it yet arrived?” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely, at your service, Chief,” replied the old man, obsequiously. “If +the gentlemen will give themselves the trouble to enter the office, I will lead +them behind, direct into the mortuary chamber. There are many people in +yonder.” +</p> + +<p> +It was the usual crowd of sightseers passing slowly before the plate glass of +this, the most terrible shop-front in the world, where the goods exposed, the +merchandise, are hideous corpses laid out in rows upon the marble slabs, the +battered, tattered remnants of outraged humanity, insulted by the most terrible +indignities in death. +</p> + +<p> +Who make up this curious throng, and what strange morbid motives drag them +there? Those fat, comfortable-looking women, with their baskets on their arms; +the decent workmen in dusty blouses, idling between the hours of work; the +riffraff of the streets, male or female, in various stages of wretchedness and +degradation? A few, no doubt, are impelled by motives we cannot challenge—they +are torn and tortured by suspense, trembling lest they may recognize missing +dear ones among the exposed; others stare carelessly at the day’s “take,” +wondering, perhaps, if they may come to the same fate; one or two are idle +sightseers, not always French, for the Morgue is a favourite haunt with the +irrepressible tourist doing Paris. Strangest of all, the murderer himself, the +doer of the fell deed, comes here, to the very spot where his victim lies stark +and reproachful, and stares at it spellbound, fascinated, filled more with +remorse, perchance, than fear at the risk he runs. So common is this trait, +that in mysterious murder cases the police of Paris keep a disguised officer +among the crowd at the Morgue, and have thereby made many memorable arrests. +</p> + +<p> +“This way, gentlemen, this way;” and the keeper of the Morgue led the party +through one or two rooms into the inner and back recesses of the buildings. It +was behind the scenes of the Morgue, and they were made free of its most +gruesome secrets as they passed along. +</p> + +<p> +The temperature had suddenly fallen far below freezing-point, and the icy cold +chilled to the very marrow. Still worse was an all-pervading, acrid odour of +artificially suspended animal decay. The cold-air process, that latest of +scientific contrivances to arrest the waste of tissue, has now been applied at +the Morgue to preserve and keep the bodies fresh, and allow them to be for a +longer time exposed than when running water was the only aid. There are, +moreover, many specially contrived refrigerating chests, in which those still +unrecognized corpses are laid by for months, to be dragged out, if needs be, +like carcasses of meat. +</p> + +<p> +“What a loathsome place!” cried Sir Charles. “Hurry up, Jack! let us get out of +this, in Heaven’s name!” +</p> + +<p> +“Where’s my man?” quickly asked Colonel Papillon in response to this appeal. +</p> + +<p> +“There, the third from the left,” whispered M. Floçon. “We hoped you would +recognize the corpse at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“That? Impossible! You do not expect it, surely? Why, the face is too much +mangled for any one to say who it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are there no indications, no marks or signs, to say whether it is Quadling or +not?” asked the Judge in a greatly disappointed tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely nothing. And yet I am quite satisfied it is not him. For the simple +reason that—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“That Quadling in person is standing out there among the crowd.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p> +M. Floçon was the first to realize the full meaning of Colonel Papillon’s +surprising statement. +</p> + +<p> +“Run, run, La Pêche! Have the outer doors closed; let no one leave the place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Draw back, gentlemen!” he went on, and he hustled his companions with frantic +haste out at the back of the mortuary chamber. “Pray Heaven he has not seen us! +He would know us, even if we do not him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then with no less haste he seized Colonel Papillon by the arm and hurried him +by the back passages through the office into the outer, public chamber, where +the astonished crowd stood, silent and perturbed, awaiting explanation of their +detention. +</p> + +<p> +“Quick, monsieur!” whispered the Chief; “point him out to me.” +</p> + +<p> +The request was not unnecessary, for when Colonel Papillon went forward, and, +putting his hand on a man’s shoulder, saying, “Mr. Quadling, I think,” the +police officer was scarcely able to restrain his surprise. +</p> + +<p> +The person thus challenged was very unlike any one he had seen before that day, +Ripaldi most of all. The moustache was gone, the clothes were entirely changed; +a pair of dark green spectacles helped the disguise. It was strange indeed that +Papillon had known him; but at the moment of recognition Quadling had removed +his glasses, no doubt that he might the better examine the object of his visit +to the Morgue, that gruesome record of his own fell handiwork. +</p> + +<p> +Naturally he drew back with well-feigned indignation, muttering +half-unintelligible words in French, denying stoutly both in voice and gesture +all acquaintance with the person who thus abruptly addressed him. +</p> + +<p> +“This is not to be borne,” he cried. “Who are you that dares—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ta! ta!” quietly put in M. Floçon; “we will discuss that fully, but not here. +Come into the office; come, I say, or must we use force?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no escaping now, and with a poor attempt at bravado the stranger was +led away. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Colonel Papillon, look at him well. Do you know him? Are you satisfied it +is—” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Quadling, late banker, of Rome. I have not the slightest doubt of it. I +recognize him beyond all question.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will do. Silence, sir!” This to Quadling. “No observations. I too can +recognize you now as the person who called himself Ripaldi an hour or two ago. +Denial is useless. Let him be searched; thoroughly, you understand, La Pêche? +Call in your other men; he may resist.” +</p> + +<p> +They gave the wretched man but scant consideration, and in less than three +minutes had visited every pocket, examined every secret receptacle, and +practically turned him inside out. +</p> + +<p> +After this there could no longer be any doubt of his identity, still less of +his complicity in the crime. +</p> + +<p> +First among the many damning evidences of his guilt was the missing pocketbook +of the porter of the sleeping-car. Within was the train card and the +passengers’ tickets, all the papers which the man Groote had lost so +unaccountably. They had, of course, been stolen from his person with the +obvious intention of impeding the inquiry into the murder. Next, in another +inner pocket was Quadling’s own wallet, with his own visiting-cards, several +letters addressed to him by name; above all, a thick sheaf of bank-notes of all +nationalities—English, French, Italian, and amounting in total value to several +thousands of pounds. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, do you still deny? Bah! it is childish, useless, mere waste of breath. +At last we have penetrated the mystery. You may as well confess. Whether or no, +we have enough to convict you by independent testimony,” said the Judge, +severely. “Come, what have you to say?” +</p> + +<p> +But Quadling, with pale, averted face, stood obstinately mute. He was in the +toils, the net had closed round him, they should have no assistance from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, speak out; it will be best. Remember, we have means to make you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you interrogate him further, M. Beaumont le Hardi? Here, at once?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, let him be removed to the Prefecture; it will be more convenient; to my +private office.” +</p> + +<p> +Without more ado a fiacre was called, and the prisoner was taken off under +escort, M. Floçon seated by his side, one policeman in front, another on the +box, and lodged in a secret cell at the Quai l’Horloge. +</p> + +<p> +“And you, gentlemen?” said the Judge to Sir Charles and Colonel Papillon. “I do +not wish to detain you further, although there may be points you might help us +to elucidate if I might venture to still trespass on your time?” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Charles was eager to return to the Hôtel Madagascar, and yet he felt that +he should best serve his dear Countess by seeing this to the end. So he readily +assented to accompany the Judge, and Colonel Papillon, who was no less curious, +agreed to go too. +</p> + +<p> +“I sincerely trust,” said the Judge on the way, “that our people have laid +hands on that woman Petitpré. I believe that she holds the key to the +situation, that when we hear her story we shall have a clear case against +Quadling; and—who knows?—she may completely exonerate Madame la Comtesse.” +</p> + +<p> +During the events just recorded, which occupied a good hour, the police agents +had time to go and come from the Rue Bellechasse. They did not return +empty-handed, although at first it seemed as if they had made a fruitless +journey. The Hôtel Ivoire was a very second-class place, a lodging-house, or +hotel with furnished rooms let out by the week to lodgers with whom the +proprietor had no very close acquaintance. His clerk did all the business, and +this functionary produced the register, as he is bound by law, for the +inspection of the police officers, but afforded little information as to the +day’s arrivals. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, a man calling himself Dufour had taken rooms about midday, one for +himself, one for madame who was with him, also named Dufour—his sister, he +said;” and he went on at the request of the police officers to describe them. +</p> + +<p> +“Our birds,” said the senior agent, briefly. “They are wanted. We belong to the +detective police.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right.” Such visits were not new to the clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“But you will not find monsieur; he is out; there hangs his key. Madame? No, +she is within. Yes, that is certain, for not long since she rang her bell. +There, it goes again.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked up at the furiously oscillating bell, but made no move. +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! they do not pay for service; let her come and say what she needs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly; and we will bring her,” said the officer, making for the stairs and +the room indicated. +</p> + +<p> +But on reaching the door, they found it locked. From within? Hardly, for as +they stood there in doubt, a voice inside cried vehemently: +</p> + +<p> +“Let me out! Help! Help! Send for the police. I have much to tell them. Quick! +Let me out.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are here, my dear, just as you require us. But wait; step down, Gaston, and +see if the clerk has a second key. If not, call in a locksmith—the nearest. A +little patience only, my beauty. Do not fear.” +</p> + +<p> +The key was quickly produced, and an entrance effected. +</p> + +<p> +A woman stood there in a defiant attitude, with arms akimbo; she, no doubt, of +whom they were in search. A tall, rather masculine-looking creature, with a +dark, handsome face, bold black eyes just now flashing fiercely, rage in every +feature. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame Dufour?” began the police officer. +</p> + +<p> +“Dufour! Rot! My name is Hortense Petitpré; who are you? <i>La Rousse?</i>” +(Police.) +</p> + +<p> +“At your service. Have you anything to say to us? We have come on purpose to +take you to the Prefecture quietly, if you will let us; or—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go quietly. I ask nothing better. I have to lay information against a +miscreant—a murderer—the vile assassin who would have made me his +accomplice—the banker, Quadling, of Rome!” +</p> + +<p> +In the fiacre Hortense Petitpré talked on with such incessant abuse, virulent +and violent, of Quadling, that her charges were neither precise nor +intelligible. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until she appeared before M. Beaumont le Hardi, and was handled with +great dexterity by that practised examiner, that her story took definite form. +</p> + +<p> +What she had to say will be best told in the clear, formal language of the +official disposition. +</p> + +<p> +The witness inculpated stated: +</p> + +<p> +“She was named Aglaé Hortense Petitpré, thirty-four years of age, a +Frenchwoman, born in Paris, Rue de Vincennes No. 374. Was engaged by the +Contessa Castagneto, November 19, 189—, in Rome, as lady’s maid, and there, at +her mistress’s domicile, became acquainted with the Sieur Francis Quadling, a +banker of the Via Condotti, Rome. +</p> + +<p> +“Quadling had pretensions to the hand of the Countess, and sought, by bribes +and entreaties, to interest witness in his suit. Witness often spoke of him in +complimentary terms to her mistress, who was not very favourably disposed +towards him. +</p> + +<p> +“One afternoon (two days before the murder) Quadling paid a lengthened visit to +the Countess. Witness did not hear what occurred, but Quadling came out much +distressed, and again urged her to speak to the Countess. He had heard of the +approaching departure of the lady from Rome, but said nothing of his own +intentions. +</p> + +<p> +“Witness was much surprised to find him in the sleeping-car, but had no talk to +him till the following morning, when he asked her to obtain an interview for +him with the Countess, and promised a large reward. In making this offer he +produced a wallet and exhibited a very large number of notes. +</p> + +<p> +“Witness was unable to persuade the Countess, although she returned to the +subject frequently. Witness so informed Quadling, who then spoke to the lady, +but was coldly received. +</p> + +<p> +“During the journey witness thought much over the situation. Admitted that the +sight of Quadling’s money had greatly disturbed her, but, although pressed, +would not say when the first idea of robbing him took possession of her. (Note +by Judge—That she had resolved to do so is, however, perfectly clear, and the +conclusion is borne out by her acts. It was she who secured the Countess’s +medicine bottle; she, beyond doubt, who drugged the porter at Laroche. In no +other way can her presence in the sleeping-car between Laroche and Paris be +accounted for-presence which she does not deny.) +</p> + +<p> +“Witness at last reluctantly confessed that she entered the compartment where +the murder was committed, and at a critical moment. An affray was actually in +progress between the Italian Ripaldi and the incriminated man Quadling, but the +witness arrived as the last fatal blow was struck by the latter. +</p> + +<p> +“She saw it struck, and saw the victim fall lifeless on the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Witness declared she was so terrified she could at first utter no cry, nor +call for help, and before she could recover herself the murderer threatened her +with the ensanguined knife. She threw herself on her knees, imploring pity, but +the man Quadling told her that she was an eye-witness, and could take him to +the guillotine,—she also must die. +</p> + +<p> +“Witness at last prevailed on him to spare her life, but only on condition that +she would leave the car. He indicated the window as the only way of escape; but +on this for a long time she refused to venture, declaring that it was only to +exchange one form of death for another. Then, as Quadling again threatened to +stab her, she was compelled to accept this last chance, never hoping to win out +alive. +</p> + +<p> +“With Quadling’s assistance, however, she succeeded in climbing out through the +window and in gaining the roof. He had told her to wait for the first occasion +when the train slackened speed to leave it and shift for herself. With this +intention he gave her a thousand francs, and bade her never show herself again. +</p> + +<p> +“Witness descended from the train not far from the small station of Villeneuve +on the line, and there took the local train for Paris. Landed at the Lyons +Station, she heard of the inquiry in progress, and then, waiting outside, saw +Quadling disguised as the Italian leave in company with another man. She +followed and marked Quadling down, meaning to denounce him on the first +opportunity. Quadling, however, on issuing from the restaurant, had accosted +her, and at once offered her a further sum of five thousand francs as the price +of silence, and she had gone with him to the Hôtel Ivoire, where she was to +receive the sum. Quadling had paid it, but on one condition, that she would +remain at the Hotel Ivoire until the following day. Apparently he had +distrusted her, for he had contrived to lock her into her compartment. As she +did not choose to be so imprisoned, she summoned assistance, and was at length +released by the police.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +This was the substance of Hortense Petitpré’s deposition, and it was +corroborated in many small details. +</p> + +<p> +When she appeared before the Judge, with whom Sir Charles Collingham and +Colonel Papillon were seated, the former at once pointed out that she was +wearing a dark mantle trimmed with the same sort of passementerie as that +picked up in the sleeping-car. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +L’ENVOI +</p> + +<p> +Quadling was in due course brought before the Court of Assize and tried for his +life. There was no sort of doubt of his guilt, and the jury so found, but, +having regard to certain extenuating circumstances, they recommended him to +mercy. The chief of these was Quadling’s positive assurance that he had been +first attacked by Ripaldi; he declared that the Italian detective had in the +first instance tried to come to terms with him, demanding 50,000 francs as his +price for allowing him to go at large; that when Quadling distinctly refused to +be black-mailed, Ripaldi struck at him with a knife, but that the blow failed +to take effect. +</p> + +<p> +Then Quadling closed with him and took the knife from him. It was a fierce +encounter, and might have ended either way, but the unexpected entrance of the +woman Petitpré took off Ripaldi’s attention, and then he, Quadling, maddened +and reckless, stabbed him to the heart. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until after the deed was done that Quadling realized the full +measure of his crime and its inevitable consequences. Then, in a daring effort +to extricate himself, he intimidated the woman Petitpré, and forced her to +escape through the sleeping-car window. +</p> + +<p> +It was he who had rung the signal-bell to stop the train and give her a chance +of leaving it. It was after the murder, too, that he conceived the idea of +personating Ripaldi, and, having disfigured him beyond recognition, as he +hoped, he had changed clothes and compartments. +</p> + +<p> +On the strength of this confession Quadling escaped the guillotine, but he was +transported to New Caledonia for life. +</p> + +<p> +The money taken on him was forwarded to Rome, and was usefully employed in +reducing his liabilities to the depositors in the bank. +</p> + +<p> +One other word. +</p> + +<p> +Some time in June the following announcement appeared in all the Paris papers: +</p> + +<p> +“Yesterday, at the British Embassy, General Sir Charles Collingham, K. C. B., +was married to Sabine, Contessa di Castagneto, widow of the Italian Count of +that name.” +</p> + +<p class="center"> +THE END. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11451 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> diff --git a/11451-h/images/cover.jpg b/11451-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..43d684f --- /dev/null +++ b/11451-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/11451-h/images/frontis.jpg b/11451-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e039de0 --- /dev/null +++ b/11451-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/11451-h/images/img01.jpg b/11451-h/images/img01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3fce43 --- /dev/null +++ b/11451-h/images/img01.jpg |
