"I don't like that woman, old fellow," were the first words Dick uttered
when we were alone in the room in which Yolande had been found.
"Why not?" I asked, rather surprised. "The Countess de Foville is
always charming."
He shrugged his shoulders, saying:
"One sometimes has strange and unaccountable prejudices, you know. This
is one of mine."
"And Yolande," I asked, "what of her?"
"She's better. But it was fortunate I made the discovery just when I
did, or she would no doubt have passed away. I never saw an appearance
so closely resembling death in all my experience; in fact, I'd have
staked my professional reputation that there was no spark of life."
"But what was the cause of it all?" I demanded. "You surely know the
reason?"
"No, we cannot yet tell," he answered. "The marks puzzle us. That mark
on her lower lip is the most peculiar and unaccountable. At present we
can say nothing."
"Then why did you call me out?"
"Because I want to consult you," he replied. "The fact is, that in this
affair there is a strong element of mystery which I don't like at all.
And, moreover, the few seconds during which I've seen the Countess have
plainly impressed upon me the belief that either she has had something
to do with it, or else that she knows the truth."
I nodded. This was exactly my own theory. "Do you think Yolande has
been the victim of foul play?" I inquired a moment later.
"That's my suspicion," he responded. "But only she herself can tell us
the truth."
"You really think, then, that a dastardly attempt has been made upon her
life?" I cried incredulously.
"Personally, I think there can be no doubt."
"But by whom? No one called here after my departure."
"It is that mystery which we must elucidate," he said. "All I fear is,
however, that she may render us no assistance."
"Why?"
"Because it is a mystery, and in all probability she will endeavour to
preserve the secret. She must not see the Countess before we question
her."
"Is she yet conscious?" I asked in eagerness.
"Yes; but at present we must put no question to her."
"Thank Heaven!" I gasped. Then I added, fervently grasping my friend's
hand: "You cannot realise, Dick, what great consolation this is to me!"
"I know, my dear fellow--I know," he answered sympathetically. "But may
I speak to you as a friend? You won't be offended at anything I am
about to say, will you?"
"Offended?--certainly not. Our friendship is too firm for that, Dick.
What is it you wish to say?"