"The grief of the count and the young widow was intense. M. de Tremorel,
especially, seemed absolutely desperate, and acted like a madman. The
countess shut herself up, forbidding even those whom she loved best from
entering her chamber--even Madame Courtois. When the count and Madame
Bertha reappeared, they were scarcely to be recognized, so much had both
changed. Monsieur Hector seemed to have grown twenty years older. Would
they keep the oath made at the death-bed of Sauvresy, of which everyone
was apprised? This was asked with all the more curiosity, because their
profound sorrow for a man who well merited it, was admired."
The judge of instruction stopped M. Plantat with a motion of his hand.
"Do you know," asked he, "whether the rendezvous at the Hotel Belle
Image had ceased?"
"I suppose so, sir; I think so."
"I am almost sure of it," said Dr. Gendron. "I have often heard it
said--they know everything at Corbeil--that there was a heated
explanation between M. de Tremorel and the pretty Parisian lady. After
this quarrel, they were no longer seen at the Belle Image."
The old justice of the peace smiled.
"Melun is not at the end of the world," said he, "and there are hotels
at Melun. With a good horse, one is soon at Fontainebleau, at
Versailles, even at Paris. Madame de Tremorel might have been jealous;
her husband had some first-rate trotters in his stables."
Did M. Plantat give an absolutely disinterested opinion, or did he make
an insinuation? The judge of instruction looked at him attentively, to
reassure himself, but his visage expressed nothing but a profound
serenity. He told the story as he would any other, no matter what.
"Please go on, Monsieur," resumed M. Domini.
"Alas!" said M. Plantat, "nothing here below is eternal, not even grief.
I know it better than anybody. Soon, to the tears of the first days, to
violent despair, there succeeded, in the count and Madame Bertha, a
reasonable sadness, then a soft melancholy. And in one year after
Sauvresy's death Monsieur de Tremorel espoused his widow."
During this long narrative the mayor had several times exhibited marks
of impatience. At the end, being able to hold in no longer, he
exclaimed:
"There, those are surely exact details; but I question whether they have
advanced us a step in this grave matter which occupies us all--to find
the murderers of the count and countess."
M. Plantat, at these words, bent on the judge of instruction his clear
and deep look, as if to search his conscience to the bottom.
"These details were indispensable," returned M. Domini, "and they are
very clear. Those rendezvous at the hotel struck me; one knows not to
what extremities jealousy might lead a woman--"
He stopped abruptly, seeking, no doubt, some connection between the
pretty Parisian and the murderers; then resumed:
"Now that I know the Tremorels as if I had lived with them intimately,
let us proceed to the actual facts."
The brilliant eye of M. Plantat immediately grew dim; he opened his lips
as if to speak; but kept his peace. The doctor alone, who had not ceased
to study the old justice of the peace, remarked the sudden change of his
features.
"It only remains," said M. Domini, "to know how the new couple lived."