I had but one idea when I heard that reply--to get back to my house
without a moment's needless delay. It was then ten o'clock at night--the
last train to Metz had left long since. I arranged with my young
friend--after duly informing him of the circumstances--that I should go by
the first train in the morning, instead of staying to breakfast with the
other guests who slept in the house.
At intervals during the night I wondered uneasily how things were going on
at Maison Rouge. Again and again the same question occurred to me, on my
journey home in the early morning--the morning of the first of March. As
the event proved, but one person in my house knew what really happened at
the stables on Francis Raven's birthday. Let Joseph Rigobert take my place
as narrator, and tell the story of the end to You--as he told it, in times
past, to his lawyer and to Me.