“Oh!”
“The shot that was first fired,” continued Dr. Seignebos, “and which
has touched the side, is the very smallest sized ‘dust.’ That in the
shoulder, on the other hand, is quite large sized, such as I think is
used in shooting hares. However, I have some samples.”
And with these words, he opened a piece of white paper, in which were
ten or twelve pieces of lead, stained with coagulated blood, and showing
at once a considerable difference in size. M. Folgat looked puzzled.
“Could there have been two murderers?” he asked half aloud.
“I rather think,” said M. de Chandore, “that the murderer had, like
many sportsmen, one barrel ready for birds, and another for hares or
rabbits.”
“At all events, this fact puts all premeditation out of question. A man
does not load his gun with small-shot in order to commit murder.”
Dr. Seignebos thought he had said enough about it, and was rising to
take leave, when M. de Chandore asked him how Count Claudieuse was
doing.
“He is not doing well,” replied the doctor. “The removal, in spite of
all possible precautions, has worn him out completely; for he is here in
Sauveterre since yesterday, in a house which M. Seneschal has rented for
him provisionally. He has been delirious all night through; and, when I
came to see him this morning, I do not think he knew me.”
“And the countess?” asked Dionysia.
“The countess, madam, is quite as sick as her husband, and, if she had
listened to me, she would have gone to bed, too. But she is a woman
of uncommon energy, who derives from her affection for her husband an
almost incomprehensible power of resistance. As to Cocoleu,” he added,
standing already near the door, “an examination of his mental condition
might produce results which no one seems to expect now. But we will talk
of that hereafter. And now, I must bid you all good-by.”
“Well?” asked Dionysia and M. de Chandore, as soon as they had heard the
street door close behind Dr. Seignebos.
But M. Folgat’s enthusiasm had cooled off very rapidly.
“Before giving an opinion,” he said cautiously, “I must study the report
of this estimable doctor.”
Unfortunately, the report contained nothing that the doctor had not
mentioned. In vain did the young advocate try all the afternoon to
find something in it that might be useful for the defence. There were
arguments in it, to be sure, which might be very valuable when the trial
should come on, but nothing that could be used to make the prosecution
give up the case.
The whole house was, therefore, cruelly disappointed and dejected, when,
about five o’clock, old Anthony came in from Boiscoran. He looked very
sad, and said,--
“I have been relieved of my duties. At two o’clock M. Galpin came
to take off the seals. He was accompanied by his clerk Mechinet, and
brought Master Jacques with him, who was guarded by two gendarmes in
citizen’s clothes. When the room was opened, that unlucky man Galpin
asked Master Jacques if those were the clothes which he wore the night
of the fire, his boots, his gun, and the water in which he washed his
hands. When he had acknowledged every thing, the water was carefully
poured into a bottle, which they sealed, and handed to one of the
gendarmes. Then they put master’s clothes in a large trunk, his gun,
several parcels of cartridge, and some other articles, which the
magistrate said were needed for the trial. That trunk was sealed like
the bottle, and put on the carriage; then that man Galpin went off, and
told me that I was free.”
“And Jacques,” Dionysia asked eagerly,--“how did he look?”
“Master, madam, laughed contemptuously.”
“Did you speak to him?” asked M. Folgat.
“Oh, no, sir! M. Galpin would not allow me.”
“And did you have time to look at the gun?”
“I could but just glance at the lock.”
“And what did you see?”