M. Plantat was so naturally.

"This is a very sad event," said he, in a tone which he forced himself

to make perfectly disinterested; "but after all, how does it concern us?

We must, however, hurry and ascertain whether it is true. I have sent

for the brigadier, and he will join us."

"Let us go," said M. Courtois; "I have my scarf in my pocket."

They hastened off. Philippe and his father went first, the young man

eager and impatient, the old one sombre and thoughtful. The mayor, at

each step, made some exclamation.

"I can't understand it," muttered he; "a murder in my commune! a commune

where, in the memory of men, no crime has been committed!"

And he directed a suspicious glance toward the two Bertauds. The road

which led toward the chateau of M. de Tremorel was an unpleasant one,

shut in by walls a dozen feet high. On one side is the park of the

Marchioness de Lanascol; on the other the spacious garden of Saint

Jouan. The going and coming had taken time; it was nearly eight o'clock

when the mayor, the justice, and their guides stopped before the gate of

M. de Tremorel.

The mayor rang. The bell was very large; only a small gravelled court of

five or six yards separated the gate from the house; nevertheless no one

appeared.

The mayor rang more vigorously, then with all his strength; but in vain.

Before the gate of Mme. de Lanascol's chateau, nearly opposite, a groom

was standing, occupied in cleaning and polishing a bridle-bit. "It's of

no use to ring, gentlemen," said this man; "there's nobody in the

chateau."

"How! nobody?" asked the mayor, surprised.

"I mean," said the groom, "that there is no one there but the master and

mistress. The servants all went away last evening by the 8.40 train to

Paris, to the wedding of the old cook, Madame Denis. They ought to

return this morning by the first train. I was invited myself--"

"Great God!" interrupted M. Courtois, "then the count and countess

remained alone last night?"

"Entirely alone, Monsieur Mayor."

"It is horrible!"

M. Plantat seemed to grow impatient during this dialogue. "Come," said

he, "we cannot stay forever at the gate. The gendarmes do not come; let

us send for the locksmith." Philippe was about to hasten off, when, at

the end of the road, singing and laughing were heard. Five persons,

three women and two men, soon appeared.

"Ah, there are the people of the chateau," cried the groom, whom this

morning visit seemed to annoy, "they ought to have a key."

The domestics, seeing the group about the gate, became silent and

hastened their steps. One of them began to run ahead of the others; it

was the count's valet de chambre.

"These gentlemen perhaps wish to speak to Monsieur the Count?" asked he,

having bowed to M. Plantat.

"We have rung five times, as hard as we could," said the mayor.

"It is surprising," said the valet de chambre, "the count sleeps very

lightly. Perhaps he has gone out."

"Horror!" cried Philippe. "Both of them have been murdered!" These words

shocked the servants, whose gayety announced a reasonable number of

healths drunk to the happiness of the newly wedded pair. M. Courtois

seemed to be studying the attitude of old Bertaud.

"A murder!" muttered the valet de chambre. "It was for money then; it

must have been known--"

"What?" asked the mayor.

"Monsieur the Count received a very large sum yesterday morning."

"Large! yes," added a chambermaid. "He had a large package of

bank-bills. Madame even said to Monsieur that she should not shut her

eyes the whole night, with this immense sum in the house."

There was a silence; each one looked at the others with a frightened

air. M. Courtois reflected.

"At what hour did you leave the chateau last evening?" asked he of the

servants.

"At eight o'clock; we had dinner early."

"You went away all together?"

"Yes, sir."

"You did not leave each other?"

"Not a minute."

"And you returned all together?"

The servants exchanged a significant look.

"All," responded a chambermaid--"that is to say, no. One left us on

reaching the Lyons station at Paris; it was Guespin."

"Yes, sir; he went away, saying that he would rejoin us at Wepler's, in

the Batignolles, where the wedding took place." The mayor nudged the

justice with his elbow, as if to attract his attention, and continued to

question the chambermaid.

"And this Guespin, as you call him--did you see him again?"

"No, sir. I asked several times during the evening in vain, what had

become of him; his absence seemed to me suspicious." Evidently the

chambermaid tried to show superior perspicacity. A little more, and she

would have talked of presentiments.

"Has this Guespin been long in the house?"

"Since spring."

"What were his duties?"

"He was sent from Paris by the house of the 'Skilful Gardener,' to take

care of the rare flowers in Madame's conservatory."

"And did he know of this money?"

The domestics again exchanged significant glances.

"Yes," they answered in chorus, "we had talked a great deal about it

among ourselves."

The chambermaid added: "He even said to me, 'To think that Monsieur the

Count has enough money in his cabinet to make all our fortunes.'"

"What kind of a man is this?"

This question absolutely extinguished the talkativeness of the servants.

No one dared to speak, perceiving that the least word might serve as the

basis of a terrible accusation. But the groom of the house opposite, who

burned to mix himself up in the affair, had none of these scruples.

"Guespin," answered he, "is a good fellow. Lord, what jolly things he

knows! He knows everything you can imagine. It appears he has been rich

in times past, and if he wished--But dame! he loves to have his work all

finished, and go off on sprees. He's a crack billiard-player, I can tell

you."

Papa Plantat, while listening in an apparently absent-minded way to

these depositions, or rather these scandals, carefully examined the wall

and the gate. He now turned, and interrupting the groom:

"Enough of this," said he, to the great scandal of M. Courtois. "Before

pursuing this interrogatory, let us ascertain the crime, if crime there

is; for it is not proved. Let whoever has the key, open the gate."

The valet de chambre had the key; he opened the gate, and all entered

the little court. The gendarmes had just arrived. The mayor told the

brigadier to follow him, and placed two men at the gate, ordering them

not to permit anyone to enter or go out, unless by his orders. Then the

valet de chambre opened the door of the house.

The Mystery of Orcival · 第 5 / 111 题