It was not until late in the morning that Clara Kingscott was let out of
the cell in the police-station, where she had been locked up, and was
taken to be examined before _Monsieur le Chef des sergents de ville_.
Although she was full of natural indignation at the treatment that she
met with, to gain her purpose, she was forced to dissemble her anger,
and answer all the questions put to her in a cool and collected manner.
Having taken care also to arrange her toilette and efface the traces of
bedragglement, her appearance had its due effect, and Monsieur le Chef
comprehended the case in a moment.
It was a mistake arising from the want of perspicacity of an
over-zealous officer, and the Chef entreated Madame--he begged pardon,
Mademoiselle--to accept a hundred thousand apologies for the unfortunate
mistake which had subjected her to such treatment.
_Trop de zele_ was poor satisfaction for being arrested, locked up, and
losing her vengeance; but Mademoiselle smiled sweetly, told the officer
not to mention it, and now that she had gained his ear went on eagerly
to tell her tale.
The Chef listened attentively to Miss Kingscott's narration, making
short notes in a memorandum book before him, knitting his brows,
glancing at her every now and then interrogatively with his sharp
pistolling eyes, and pulling the waxed ends of his black moustache _a
l'Empereur_ meditatively as she proceeded with her strange recital.
It did not astonish the Chef, however. The French police are never
astonished, _Le Garde meurt, mais ne se rend pas_: Monsieur le Chef was
only perplexed, but his perplexity grew greater the more he heard.
That a murder should have been committed anywhere was not such a very
surprising thing in itself; but that a murder should take place in
Havre, Havre which was under his own especial supervision, _c'etait
impossible_! It was a thing incredible.
It was absurd on the face of it. His _sergents de ville_ knew their
duty too well to allow it; but still he interrogated Mademoiselle, and
put down the answers she gave to his various questions in his note book.
All the circumstances of the case should be looked into and
investigated, although they certainly seemed incredible. It struck the
Chef, however, that Mademoiselle's narrative was too clear and succinct
to be made up: besides, a few initiatory inquiries would readily reveal
whether her premises were true or false.
The Chef touched a hand-bell on his table, and a subordinate officer
quickly answered the summons. To him some directions were given, in a
low earnest voice, so low that Miss Kingscott could not catch their
purport: the man then withdrew.
"_Attendez un moment, Mademoiselle, il reviendra bientot_," said the
Chef, in an apologetic tone.
Miss Kingscott had to wait nearly half-an-hour until the messenger came
back.
More whispering with the Chef, and comparing of note books; the news was
evidently important, for the latter looked grave and puzzled; but as
soon as the underling withdrew, he again addressed the governess.
"I find you have told me the truth about yourself," he commenced.
"Your politeness is great to have doubted my word: I thought all
Frenchmen were renowned for their gallantry!" interposed the lady.
"Circumstances must plead my excuse, Mademoiselle," continued the Chef,
making an elaborately polite bow; "the law must be assured before it can
act. I find that you came to Havre yesterday, that about mid-day you
went to the Hotel du Cote d'Or, secured a room, and left your luggage.
The _proprietaire_ mentions that you have stopped there before, and
gives you a good character."
"A thousand thanks," said Miss Kingscott, with a sneer.
"Mademoiselle will understand that it is my duty to make these
enquiries. _Allons_! That, after remaining a short time at the Hotel
du Cote d'Or," continued the Chef, calmly, as if reading out from an
affidavit, "you went out, leaving word that you would return again to
dinner, but you did not go back, and _Monsieur le proprietaire_ was
plunged into the deepest uneasiness at your non-appearance: I believe I
am so far correct."
The Chef paused here a moment, as if to to have his observation to be
confirmed.
"_Apres_?" inquired the lady, and nodded her head for him to go on.
"I have also learnt," continued the Chef, "that this man Markworth, whom
you accuse, was a gentleman, English, and has lived with a lady whom he
called his wife, and who was of delicate health for more than three
months past at the house of Madame Cliquelle, commonly called _la Mere
Cliquelle_, at the house _Numero_ 7, _Rue Montmartre_; that this man
Markworth has been in the habit of quitting his apartments for short
intervals, leaving _madame sa femme_ behind him, and crossing over to
England, from whence he has generally returned after an absence of two
or three days. That, after one of these short absences, he came back
yesterday--Mademoiselle probably crossed the channel in the same boat
with Monsieur?"
"I did."
"This man Markworth, after coming back remained in his apartments all
day until the evening. The Mere Cliquelle says that she heard no high
words (_grosses paroles_) between Monsieur Markworth and his wife. She
has observed that Madame was very delicate and very fond of Monsieur,
and that he was always very gentle and kind to her--in fact that they
were an attached couple. Well, this Monsieur Markworth remained in all
day until the evening, he gave orders to the Mere Cliquelle to admit
nobody to see him. One person called and enquired particularly to see
him in the afternoon--perhaps that was Mademoiselle?"
"It was," answered Miss Kingscott.
"You were not admitted to see Monsieur?"
"I was not admitted," she answered, sententiously.
The Chef went on. "So says the Mere Cliquelle. In the evening about
seven o'clock she and her husband also both declare that Monsieur et
Madame Markworth went out apparently for a walk. Shortly after they
went out a big stout English gentleman called and enquired for them; he
was told they were out, and said he would return again at nine o'clock.
About that time, as near as the Mere Cliquelle and her husband could
judge, Markworth came back alone without his wife. Monsieur Cliquelle,
who saw him, says he looked pale, and was out of breath, as if from
running; and he told him that Madame Markworth was unwell, that he had
taken her to see some friends at Lugonville, that he only came back to
fetch some things for her, and would bring her home in the morning.
Monsieur Markworth after remaining in his apartments perhaps half an
hour or more went out, as the husband of the Mere Cliquelle supposed to
Lugonville and his wife, taking a small travelling portmanteau with him;
nothing further has been seen of Markworth or his wife, or of the fat
Englishman who said he would return to the house in question at nine
o'clock last night. Does Mademoiselle follow me? She will see that her
story is partly confirmed by other circumstances."
"I told you nearly all that myself, before!" she observed, angrily.
"Certainly, Mademoiselle! But your statement had to be confirmed."
"And now, what are you going to do?"
"The machinery of justice shall be at once set in motion!" said the
Frenchman, grandiloquently, in the fashion of his countrymen.
"And I?"
"Mademoiselle will do me the honour of accompanying me to the Bureau of
_Monsieur le Juge de Paix_, to make her deposition. But we must attend
to other things first," saying which the Chef again touched the
hand-bell that lay within easy reach on his table. The same officer
appeared again as before.
"Send Auguste and Dechemal to me at once."
Enter two _mouchards_ in plain clothes.
The Chef addressed the one he called Dechemal first--did anyone ever
know the real name of a French spy?--"You went to that house in the Rue
Montmartre just now, did you not?"
"_Oui, Mon Chef_," he answered monosyllabically.
"Well, go there again. Arrest the Mere Cliquelle and her husband, take
them to the office of the Juge de Paix, and await me there."
"Oui, Mon Chef,"--Exit first _mouchard_.
"Auguste!"
"Oui; Mon Chef."
"Go down to the office of the English steam-boats. See what passengers
leave this morning. Ask also along the quays if any boatman took any
person or persons across to Honfleur, or any place adjoining, last night
or this morning. Make enquiries, too, at the hotels and cabarets, if
they have received any fresh lodgers since nine o'clock yesterday
evening, and whom. Report to me at the Juge de Paix's in half an hour,
or as soon as you can."
"_Oui, Mon Chef_." Exit second _mouchard_, as stealthily as the other--
serpentine in movements both.
"_Allons_, Mademoiselle," said the Chef, rising from his chair of office
and bowing to Nemesis, "if you will follow me, we will now act our
parts. The machinery of justice is already in motion."
Clara Kingscott accompanied the functionary of the law, civil in every
respect, out of his office and into the street. At his notification
their steps were first directed up the hill to the spot where she
pointed out as having confronted Markworth. The Chef busied himself
with taking notes as deftly as any "chiel." She also indicated the
place on the verge where she had seen Susan disappear. They then
descended the pathway where she supposed the girl would have fallen.
More keen observation and note taking on the part of the Chef. No
apparent results however, for not a trace could be seen of anybody.
Suddenly the Chef paused in the act of taking notes with one hand and
pulling the ends of his waxed moustache with the fingers of the other.
He perceived a piece of rag evidently torn off a dress, clinging to the
rocks. It was dark crimson in colour, and was a piece of merino dyed
that hue. He took it up triumphantly, and held it forth for Miss
Kingscott's inspection.
"_Voila_!" he exclaimed.
The governess did "look there," and examined the fragment curiously; a
glance of recognition flickered on her face, which the Chef at once
perceived.
"Ha!" he said, "you see something? You recognise the dress of your
compatriot?" with much guttural rolling of his R's.
"I do!" she answered, "I can swear that Susan Hartshorne wore a dress
like that the last time I saw her alive."
"It is well! We have now some proof, but we must discover what has been
done with the body. Mademoiselle will now accompany me to the bureau of
the Juge de Paix," he added, after a reflective pause, filled up with
more notation and twirling of the somewhat stiff ends of the "hirsute
appendage on his upper lip."
The Chef leading this time and Miss Kingscott following behind, the two
were soon walking rapidly together towards the imposing residence of the
official alluded to.
Volume 3, Chapter IV.