Huit coups de l'horloge. English Read online

  II

  THE WATER-BOTTLE

  Four days after she had settled down in Paris, Hortense Daniel agreed tomeet Prince Renine in the Bois. It was a glorious morning and they sat downon the terrace of the Restaurant Imperial, a little to one side.

  Hortense, feeling glad to be alive, was in a playful mood, full ofattractive grace. Renine, lest he should startle her, refrained fromalluding to the compact into which they had entered at his suggestion.She told him how she had left La Mareze and said that she had not heardof Rossigny.

  "I have," said Renine. "I've heard of him."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes, he sent me a challenge. We fought a duel this morning. Rossigny gota scratch in the shoulder. That finished the duel. Let's talk of somethingelse."

  There was no further mention of Rossigny. Renine at once expounded toHortense the plan of two enterprises which he had in view and in which heoffered, with no great enthusiasm, to let her share:

  "The finest adventure," he declared, "is that which we do not foresee. Itcomes unexpectedly, unannounced; and no one, save the initiated, realizesthat an opportunity to act and to expend one's energies is close at hand.It has to be seized at once. A moment's hesitation may mean that we are toolate. We are warned by a special sense, like that of a sleuth-hound whichdistinguishes the right scent from all the others that cross it."

  The terrace was beginning to fill up around them. At the next table sata young man reading a newspaper. They were able to see his insignificantprofile and his long, dark moustache. From behind them, through an openwindow of the restaurant, came the distant strains of a band; in one ofthe rooms a few couples were dancing.

  As Renine was paying for the refreshments, the young man with the longmoustache stifled a cry and, in a choking voice, called one of the waiters:

  "What do I owe you?... No change? Oh, good Lord, hurry up!"

  Renine, without a moment's hesitation, had picked up the paper. Aftercasting a swift glance down the page, he read, under his breath:

  "Maitre Dourdens, the counsel for the defence in the trial of Jacques Aubrieux, has been received at the Elysee. We are informed that the President of the Republic has refused to reprieve the condemned man and that the execution will take place to-morrow morning."

  After crossing the terrace, the young man found himself faced, at theentrance to the garden, by a lady and gentleman who blocked his way; andthe latter said:

  "Excuse me, sir, but I noticed your agitation. It's about Jacques Aubrieux,isn't it?"

  "Yes, yes, Jacques Aubrieux," the young man stammered. "Jacques, the friendof my childhood. I'm hurrying to see his wife. She must be beside herselfwith grief."

  "Can I offer you my assistance? I am Prince Renine. This lady and I wouldbe happy to call on Madame Aubrieux and to place our services at herdisposal."

  The young man, upset by the news which he had read, seemed not tounderstand. He introduced himself awkwardly:

  "My name is Dutreuil, Gaston Dutreuil."

  Renine beckoned to his chauffeur, who was waiting at some little distance,and pushed Gaston Dutreuil into the car, asking:

  "What address? Where does Madame Aubrieux live?"

  "23 _bis_, Avenue du Roule."

  After helping Hortense in, Renine repeated the address to the chauffeurand, as soon as they drove off, tried to question Gaston Dutreuil:

  "I know very little of the case," he said. "Tell it to me as briefly as youcan. Jacques Aubrieux killed one of his near relations, didn't he?"

  "He is innocent, sir," replied the young man, who seemed incapable ofgiving the least explanation. "Innocent, I swear it. I've been Jacques'friend for twenty years ... He is innocent ... and it would bemonstrous...."

  There was nothing to be got out of him. Besides, it was only a short drive.They entered Neuilly through the Porte des Sablons and, two minutes later,stopped before a long, narrow passage between high walls which led them toa small, one-storeyed house.

  Gaston Dutreuil rang.

  "Madame is in the drawing-room, with her mother," said the maid who openedthe door.

  "I'll go in to the ladies," he said, taking Renine and Hortense with him.

  It was a fair-sized, prettily-furnished room, which, in ordinary times,must have been used also as a study. Two women sat weeping, one of whom,elderly and grey-haired, came up to Gaston Dutreuil. He explained thereason for Renine's presence and she at once cried, amid her sobs:

  "My daughter's husband is innocent, sir. Jacques? A better man never lived.He was so good-hearted! Murder his cousin? But he worshipped his cousin! Iswear that he's not guilty, sir! And they are going to commit the infamy ofputting him to death? Oh, sir, it will kill my daughter!"

  Renine realized that all these people had been living for months under theobsession of that innocence and in the certainty that an innocent man couldnever be executed. The news of the execution, which was now inevitable, wasdriving them mad.

  He went up to a poor creature bent in two whose face, a quite young face,framed in pretty, flaxen hair, was convulsed with desperate grief.Hortense, who had already taken a seat beside her, gently drew her headagainst her shoulder. Renine said to her:

  "Madame, I do not know what I can do for you. But I give you my word ofhonour that, if any one in this world can be of use to you, it is myself.I therefore implore you to answer my questions as though the clear anddefinite wording of your replies were able to alter the aspect of thingsand as though you wished to make me share your opinion of Jacques Aubrieux.For he is innocent, is he not?"

  "Oh, sir, indeed he is!" she exclaimed; and the woman's whole soul was inthe words.

  "You are certain of it. But you were unable to communicate your certaintyto the court. Well, you must now compel me to share it. I am not asking youto go into details and to live again through the hideous torment which youhave suffered, but merely to answer certain questions. Will you do this?"

  "I will."

  Renine's influence over her was complete. With a few sentences Renine hadsucceeded in subduing her and inspiring her with the will to obey. And oncemore Hortense realized all the man's power, authority and persuasion.

  "What was your husband?" he asked, after begging the mother and GastonDutreuil to preserve absolute silence.

  "An insurance-broker."

  "Lucky in business?"

  "Until last year, yes."

  "So there have been financial difficulties during the past few months?"

  "Yes."

  "And the murder was committed when?"

  "Last March, on a Sunday."

  "Who was the victim?"

  "A distant cousin, M. Guillaume, who lived at Suresnes."

  "What was the sum stolen?"

  "Sixty thousand-franc notes, which this cousin had received the day before,in payment of a long-outstanding debt."

  "Did your husband know that?"

  "Yes. His cousin told him of it on the Sunday, in the course of aconversation on the telephone, and Jacques insisted that his cousin oughtnot to keep so large a sum in the house and that he ought to pay it into abank next day."

  "Was this in the morning?"

  "At one o'clock in the afternoon. Jacques was to have gone to M. Guillaumeon his motor-cycle. But he felt tired and told him that he would not goout. So he remained here all day."

  "Alone?"

  "Yes. The two servants were out. I went to the Cinema des Ternes with mymother and our friend Dutreuil. In the evening, we learnt that M. Guillaumehad been murdered. Next morning, Jacques was arrested."

  "On what evidence?"

  The poor creature hesitated to reply: the evidence of guilt had evidentlybeen overwhelming. Then, obeying a sign from Renine, she answered withouta pause:

  "The murderer went to Suresnes on a motorcycle and the tracks discoveredwere those of my husband's machine. They found a handkerchief with myhusband's initials; and the revolver which was used belonged to him.Lastly, one of our neighbours maintains that he saw my husband go outo
n his bicycle at three o'clock and another that he saw him come in athalf-past four. The murder was committed at four o'clock."

  "And what does Jacques Aubrieux say in his defence?"

  "He declares that he slept all the afternoon. During that time, some onecame who managed to unlock the cycle-shed and take the motor-cycle to goto Suresnes. As for the handkerchief and the revolver, they were in thetool-bag. There would be nothing surprising in the murderer's using them."

  "It seems a plausible explanation."

  "Yes, but the prosecution raised two objections. In the first place,nobody, absolutely nobody, knew that my husband was going to stay athome all day, because, on the contrary, it was his habit to go out onhis motor-cycle every Sunday afternoon."

  "And the second objection?"

  She flushed and murmured:

  "The murderer went to the pantry at M. Guillaume's and drank half a bottleof wine straight out of the bottle, which shows my husband's fingerprints."

  It seemed as though her strength was exhausted and as though, at the sametime, the unconscious hope which Renine's intervention had awakened in herhad suddenly vanished before the accumulation of adverse facts. Again shecollapsed, withdrawn into a sort of silent meditation from which Hortense'saffectionate attentions were unable to distract her.

  The mother stammered:

  "He's not guilty, is he, sir? And they can't punish an innocent man. Theyhaven't the right to kill my daughter. Oh dear, oh dear, what have we doneto be tortured like this? My poor little Madeleine!"

  "She will kill herself," said Dutreuil, in a scared voice. "She will neverbe able to endure the idea that they are guillotining Jacques. She willkill herself presently ... this very night...."

  Renine was striding up and down the room.

  "You can do nothing for her, can you?" asked Hortense.

  "It's half-past eleven now," he replied, in an anxious tone, "and it's tohappen to-morrow morning."

  "Do you think he's guilty?"

  "I don't know.... I don't know.... The poor woman's conviction is tooimpressive to be neglected. When two people have lived together for years,they can hardly be mistaken about each other to that degree. And yet...."

  He stretched himself out on a sofa and lit a cigarette. He smoked three insuccession, without a word from any one to interrupt his train of thought.From time to time he looked at his watch. Every minute was of suchimportance!

  At last he went back to Madeleine Aubrieux, took her hands and said, verygently:

  "You must not kill yourself. There is hope left until the last minute hascome; and I promise you that, for my part, I will not be disheartened untilthat last minute. But I need your calmness and your confidence."

  "I will be calm," she said, with a pitiable air.

  "And confident?"

  "And confident."

  "Well, wait for me. I shall be back in two hours from now. Will you comewith us, M. Dutreuil?"

  As they were stepping into his car, he asked the young man:

  "Do you know any small, unfrequented restaurant, not too far inside Paris?"

  "There's the Brasserie Lutetia, on the ground-floor of the house in which Ilive, on the Place des Ternes."

  "Capital. That will be very handy."

  They scarcely spoke on the way. Renine, however, said to Gaston Dutreuil:

  "So far as I remember, the numbers of the notes are known, aren't they?"

  "Yes. M. Guillaume had entered the sixty numbers in his pocket-book."

  Renine muttered, a moment later:

  "That's where the whole problem lies. Where are the notes? If we could layour hands on them, we should know everything."

  At the Brasserie Lutetia there was a telephone in the private room wherehe asked to have lunch served. When the waiter had left him alone withHortense and Dutreuil, he took down the receiver with a resolute air:

  "Hullo!... Prefecture of police, please.... Hullo! Hullo!... Is that thePrefecture of police? Please put me on to the criminal investigationdepartment. I have a very important communication to make. You can say it'sPrince Renine."

  Holding the receiver in his hand, he turned to Gaston Dutreuil:

  "I can ask some one to come here, I suppose? We shall be quiteundisturbed?"

  "Quite."

  He listened again:

  "The secretary to the head of the criminal investigation department? Oh,excellent! Mr. Secretary, I have on several occasions been in communicationwith M. Dudouis and have given him information which has been of great useto him. He is sure to remember Prince Renine. I may be able to-day to showhim where the sixty thousand-franc notes are hidden which Aubrieux themurderer stole from his cousin. If he's interested in the proposal, beg himto send an inspector to the Brasserie Lutetia, Place des Ternes. I shallbe there with a lady and M. Dutreuil, Aubrieux's friend. Good day, Mr.Secretary."

  When Renine hung up the instrument, he saw the amazed faces of Hortense andof Gaston Dutreuil confronting him.

  Hortense whispered:

  "Then you know? You've discovered ...?"

  "Nothing," he said, laughing.

  "Well?"

  "Well, I'm acting as though I knew. It's not a bad method. Let's have somelunch, shall we?"

  The clock marked a quarter to one.

  "The man from the prefecture will be here," he said, "in twenty minutes atlatest."

  "And if no one comes?" Hortense objected.

  "That would surprise me. Of course, if I had sent a message to M. Dudouissaying, 'Aubrieux is innocent,' I should have failed to make anyimpression. It's not the least use, on the eve of an execution, to attemptto convince the gentry of the police or of the law that a man condemnedto death is innocent. No. From henceforth Jacques Aubrieux belongs tothe executioner. But the prospect of securing the sixty bank-notes is awindfall worth taking a little trouble over. Just think: that was theweak point in the indictment, those sixty notes which they were unableto trace."

  "But, as you know nothing of their whereabouts...."

  "My dear girl--I hope you don't mind my calling you so?--my dear girl, whena man can't explain this or that physical phenomenon, he adopts some sortof theory which explains the various manifestations of the phenomenon andsays that everything happened as though the theory were correct. That'swhat I am doing."

  "That amounts to saying that you are going upon a supposition?"

  Renine did not reply. Not until some time later, when lunch was over, didhe say:

  "Obviously I am going upon a supposition. If I had several days before me,I should take the trouble of first verifying my theory, which is based uponintuition quite as much as upon a few scattered facts. But I have only twohours; and I am embarking on the unknown path as though I were certain thatit would lead me to the truth."

  "And suppose you are wrong?"

  "I have no choice. Besides, it is too late. There's a knock. Oh, one wordmore! Whatever I may say, don't contradict me. Nor you, M. Dutreuil."

  He opened the door. A thin man, with a red imperial, entered:

  "Prince Renine?"

  "Yes, sir. You, of course, are from M. Dudouis?"

  "Yes."

  And the newcomer gave his name:

  "Chief-inspector Morisseau."

  "I am obliged to you for coming so promptly, Mr. Chief-inspector," saidPrince Renine, "and I hope that M. Dudouis will not regret having placedyou at my disposal."

  "At your entire disposal, in addition to two inspectors whom I have left inthe square outside and who have been in the case, with me, from the first."

  "I shall not detain you for any length of time," said Renine, "and I willnot even ask you to sit down. We have only a few minutes in which to settleeverything. You know what it's all about?"

  "The sixty thousand-franc notes stolen from M. Guillaume. I have thenumbers here."

  Renine ran his eyes down the slip of paper which the chief-inspector handedhim and said:

  "That's right. The two lists agree."

  Inspector Morisseau s
eemed greatly excited:

  "The chief attaches the greatest importance to your discovery. So you willbe able to show me?..."

  Renine was silent for a moment and then declared:

  "Mr. Chief-inspector, a personal investigation--and a most exhaustiveinvestigation it was, as I will explain to you presently--has revealedthe fact that, on his return from Suresnes, the murderer, after replacingthe motor-cycle in the shed in the Avenue du Roule, ran to the Ternes andentered this house."

  "This house?"

  "Yes."

  "But what did he come here for?"

  "To hide the proceeds of his theft, the sixty bank-notes."

  "How do you mean? Where?"

  "In a flat of which he had the key, on the fifth floor."

  Gaston Dutreuil exclaimed, in amazement:

  "But there's only one flat on the fifth floor and that's the one I livein!"

  "Exactly; and, as you were at the cinema with Madame Aubrieux and hermother, advantage was taken of your absence...."

  "Impossible! No one has the key except myself."

  "One can get in without a key."

  "But I have seen no marks of any kind."

  Morisseau intervened:

  "Come, let us understand one another. You say the bank-notes were hidden inM. Dutreuil's flat?"

  "Yes."

  "Then, as Jacques Aubrieux was arrested the next morning, the notes oughtto be there still?"

  "That's my opinion."

  Gaston Dutreuil could not help laughing:

  "But that's absurd! I should have found them!"

  "Did you look for them?"

  "No. But I should have come across them at any moment. The place isn't bigenough to swing a cat in. Would you care to see it?"

  "However small it may be, it's large enough to hold sixty bits of paper."

  "Of course, everything is possible," said Dutreuil. "Still, I must repeatthat nobody, to my knowledge, has been to my rooms; that there is only onekey; that I am my own housekeeper; and that I can't quite understand...."

  Hortense too could not understand. With her eyes fixed on Prince Renine's,she was trying to read his innermost thoughts. What game was he playing?Was it her duty to support his statements? She ended by saying:

  "Mr. Chief-inspector, since Prince Renine maintains that the notes havebeen put away upstairs, wouldn't the simplest thing be to go and look? M.Dutreuil will take us up, won't you?"

  "This minute," said the young man. "As you say, that will be simplest."

  They all four climbed the five storys of the house and, after Dutreuilhad opened the door, entered a tiny set of chambers consisting of asitting-room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all arranged with fastidiousneatness. It was easy to see that every chair in the sitting-room occupieda definite place. The pipes had a rack to themselves; so had the matches.Three walking-sticks, arranged according to their length, hung fromthree nails. On a little table before the window a hat-box, filled withtissue-paper, awaited the felt hat which Dutreuil carefully placed in it.He laid his gloves beside it, on the lid.

  He did all this with sedate and mechanical movements, like a man who lovesto see things in the places which he has chosen for them. Indeed, no soonerdid Renine shift something than Dutreuil made a slight gesture of protest,took out his hat again, stuck it on his head, opened the window and restedhis elbows on the sill, with his back turned to the room, as though he wereunable to bear the sight of such vandalism.

  "You're positive, are you not?" the inspector asked Renine.

  "Yes, yes, I'm positive that the sixty notes were brought here after themurder."

  "Let's look for them."

  This was easy and soon done. In half an hour, not a corner remainedunexplored, not a knick-knack unlifted.

  "Nothing," said Inspector Morisseau. "Shall we continue?"

  "No," replied Renine, "The notes are no longer here."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that they have been removed."

  "By whom? Can't you make a more definite accusation?"

  Renine did not reply. But Gaston Dutreuil wheeled round. He was chokingand spluttered:

  "Mr. Inspector, would you like _me_ to make the accusation moredefinite, as conveyed by this gentleman's remarks? It all means thatthere's a dishonest man here, that the notes hidden by the murderer werediscovered and stolen by that dishonest man and deposited in another andsafer place. That is your idea, sir, is it not? And you accuse me ofcommitting this theft don't you?"

  He came forward, drumming his chest with his fists: "Me! Me! I found thenotes, did I, and kept them for myself? You dare to suggest that!"

  Renine still made no reply. Dutreuil flew into a rage and, taking InspectorMorisseau aside, exclaimed:

  "Mr. Inspector, I strongly protest against all this farce and againstthe part which you are unconsciously playing in it. Before your arrival,Prince Renine told this lady and myself that he knew nothing, that he wasventuring into this affair at random and that he was following the firstroad that offered, trusting to luck. Do you deny it, sir?"

  Renine did not open his lips.

  "Answer me, will you? Explain yourself; for, really, you are puttingforward the most improbable facts without any proof whatever. It's easyenough to say that I stole the notes. And how were you to know that theywere here at all? Who brought them here? Why should the murderer choosethis flat to hide them in? It's all so stupid, so illogical and absurd!...Give us your proofs, sir ... one single proof!"

  Inspector Morisseau seemed perplexed. He questioned Renine with a glance.Renine said:

  "Since you want specific details, we will get them from Madame Aubrieuxherself. She's on the telephone. Let's go downstairs. We shall know allabout it in a minute."

  Dutreuil shrugged his shoulders:

  "As you please; but what a waste of time!"

  He seemed greatly irritated. His long wait at the window, under a blazingsun, had thrown him into a sweat. He went to his bedroom and returned witha bottle of water, of which he took a few sips, afterwards placing thebottle on the window-sill:

  "Come along," he said.

  Prince Renine chuckled.

  "You seem to be in a hurry to leave the place."

  "I'm in a hurry to show you up," retorted Dutreuil, slamming the door.

  They went downstairs to the private room containing the telephone. The roomwas empty. Renine asked Gaston Dutreuil for the Aubrieuxs' number, tookdown the instrument and was put through.

  The maid who came to the telephone answered that Madame Aubrieux hadfainted, after giving way to an access of despair, and that she was nowasleep.

  "Fetch her mother, please. Prince Renine speaking. It's urgent."

  He handed the second receiver to Morisseau. For that matter, the voiceswere so distinct that Dutreuil and Hortense were able to hear every wordexchanged.

  "Is that you, madame?"

  "Yes. Prince Renine, I believe?"

  "Prince Renine."

  "Oh, sir, what news have you for me? Is there any hope?" asked the oldlady, in a tone of entreaty.

  "The enquiry is proceeding very satisfactorily," said Renine, "and youmay hope for the best. For the moment, I want you to give me some veryimportant particulars. On the day of the murder, did Gaston Dutreuil cometo your house?"

  "Yes, he came to fetch my daughter and myself, after lunch."

  "Did he know at the time that M. Guillaume had sixty thousand francs at hisplace?"

  "Yes, I told him."

  "And that Jacques Aubrieux was not feeling very well and was proposing notto take his usual cycle-ride but to stay at home and sleep?"

  "Yes."

  "You are sure?"

  "Absolutely certain."

  "And you all three went to the cinema together?"

  "Yes."

  "And you were all sitting together?"

  "Oh, no! There was no room. He took a seat farther away."

  "A seat where you could see him?"

  "No."

  "B
ut he came to you during the interval?"

  "No, we did not see him until we were going out."

  "There is no doubt of that?"

  "None at all."

  "Very well, madame. I will tell you the result of my efforts in an hour'stime. But above all, don't wake up Madame Aubrieux."

  "And suppose she wakes of her own accord?"

  "Reassure her and give her confidence. Everything is going well, very wellindeed."

  He hung up the receiver and turned to Dutreuil, laughing:

  "Ha, ha, my boy! Things are beginning to look clearer. What do you say?"

  It was difficult to tell what these words meant or what conclusions Reninehad drawn from his conversation. The silence was painful and oppressive.

  "Mr. Chief-Inspector, you have some of your men outside, haven't you?"

  "Two detective-sergeants."

  "It's important that they should be there. Please also ask the manager notto disturb us on any account."

  And, when Morisseau returned, Renine closed the door, took his stand infront of Dutreuil and, speaking in a good-humoured but emphatic tone, said:

  "It amounts to this, young man, that the ladies saw nothing of you betweenthree and five o'clock on that Sunday. That's rather a curious detail."

  "A perfectly natural detail," Dutreuil retorted, "and one, moreover, whichproves nothing at all."

  "It proves, young man, that you had a good two hours at your disposal."

  "Obviously. Two hours which I spent at the cinema."

  "Or somewhere else."

  Dutreuil looked at him:

  "Somewhere else?"

  "Yes. As you were free, you had plenty of time to go wherever you liked ...to Suresnes, for instance."

  "Oh!" said the young man, jesting in his turn. "Suresnes is a long wayoff!"

  "It's quite close! Hadn't you your friend Jacques Aubrieux's motor-cycle?"

  A fresh pause followed these words. Dutreuil had knitted his brows asthough he were trying to understand. At last he was heard to whisper:

  "So that is what he was trying to lead up to!... The brute!..."

  Renine brought down his hand on Dutreuil's shoulder:

  "No more talk! Facts! Gaston Dutreuil, you are the only person who on thatday knew two essential things: first, that Cousin Guillaume had sixtythousand francs in his house; secondly, that Jacques Aubrieux was notgoing out. You at once saw your chance. The motor-cycle was available. Youslipped out during the performance. You went to Suresnes. You killed CousinGuillaume. You took the sixty bank-notes and left them at your rooms. Andat five o'clock you went back to fetch the ladies."

  Dutreuil had listened with an expression at once mocking and flurried,casting an occasional glance at Inspector Morisseau as though to enlisthim as a witness:

  "The man's mad," it seemed to say. "It's no use being angry with him."

  When Renine had finished, he began to laugh:

  "Very funny!... A capital joke!... So it was I whom the neighbours sawgoing and returning on the motor-cycle?"

  "It was you disguised in Jacques Aubrieux's clothes."

  "And it was my finger-prints that were found on the bottle in M.Guillaume's pantry?"

  "The bottle had been opened by Jacques Aubrieux at lunch, in his own house,and it was you who took it with you to serve as evidence."

  "Funnier and funnier!" cried Dutreuil, who had the air of being franklyamused. "Then I contrived the whole affair so that Jacques Aubrieux mightbe accused of the crime?"

  "It was the safest means of not being accused yourself."

  "Yes, but Jacques is a friend whom I have known from childhood."

  "You're in love with his wife."

  The young man gave a sudden, infuriated start:

  "You dare!... What! You dare make such an infamous suggestion?"

  "I have proof of it."

  "That's a lie! I have always respected Madeleine Aubrieux and reveredher...."

  "Apparently. But you're in love with her. You desire her. Don't contradictme. I have abundant proof of it."

  "That's a lie, I tell you! You have only known me a few hours!"

  "Come, come! I've been quietly watching you for days, waiting for themoment to pounce upon you."

  He took the young man by the shoulders and shook him:

  "Come, Dutreuil, confess! I hold all the proofs in my hand. I havewitnesses whom we shall meet presently at the criminal investigationdepartment. Confess, can't you? In spite of everything, you're torturedby remorse. Remember your dismay, at the restaurant, when you had seenthe newspaper. What? Jacques Aubrieux condemned to die? That's more thanyou bargained for! Penal servitude would have suited your book; but thescaffold!... Jacques Aubrieux executed to-morrow, an innocent man!...Confess, won't you? Confess to save your own skin! Own up!"

  Bending over the other, he was trying with all his might to extort aconfession from him. But Dutreuil drew himself up and coldly, with a sortof scorn in his voice, said:

  "Sir, you are a madman. Not a word that you have said has any sense in it.All your accusations are false. What about the bank-notes? Did you findthem at my place as you said you would?"

  Renine, exasperated, clenched his fist in his face:

  "Oh, you swine, I'll dish you yet, I swear I will!"

  He drew the inspector aside:

  "Well, what do you say to it? An arrant rogue, isn't he?"

  The inspector nodded his head:

  "It may be.... But, all the same ... so far there's no real evidence."

  "Wait, M. Morisseau," said Renine. "Wait until we've had our interview withM. Dudouis. For we shall see M. Dudouis at the prefecture, shall we not?"

  "Yes, he'll be there at three o'clock."

  "Well, you'll be convinced, Mr. Inspector! I tell you here and now that youwill be convinced."

  Renine was chuckling like a man who feels certain of the course of events.Hortense, who was standing near him and was able to speak to him withoutbeing heard by the others, asked, in a low voice:

  "You've got him, haven't you?"

  He nodded his head in assent:

  "Got him? I should think I have! All the same, I'm no farther forward thanI was at the beginning."

  "But this is awful! And your proofs?"

  "Not the shadow of a proof ... I was hoping to trip him up. But he's kepthis feet, the rascal!"

  "Still, you're certain it's he?"

  "It can't be any one else. I had an intuition at the very outset; and I'venot taken my eyes off him since. I have seen his anxiety increasing as myinvestigations seemed to centre on him and concern him more closely. Now Iknow."

  "And he's in love with Madame Aubrieux?"

  "In logic, he's bound to be. But so far we have only hypotheticalsuppositions, or rather certainties which are personal to myself. We shallnever intercept the guillotine with those. Ah, if we could only find thebank-notes! Given the bank-notes, M. Dudouis would act. Without them, hewill laugh in my face."

  "What then?" murmured Hortense, in anguished accents.

  He did not reply. He walked up and down the room, assuming an air of gaietyand rubbing his hands. All was going so well! It was really a treat to takeup a case which, so to speak, worked itself out automatically.

  "Suppose we went on to the prefecture, M. Morisseau? The chief must bethere by now. And, having gone so far, we may as well finish. Will M.Dutreuil come with us?"

  "Why not?" said Dutreuil, arrogantly.

  But, just as Renine was opening the door, there was a noise in the passageand the manager ran up, waving his arms:

  "Is M. Dutreuil still here?... M. Dutreuil, your flat is on fire!... A manoutside told us. He saw it from the square."

  The young man's eyes lit up. For perhaps half a second his mouth wastwisted by a smile which Renine noticed:

  "Oh, you ruffian!" he cried. "You've given yourself away, my beauty! It wasyou who set fire to the place upstairs; and now the notes are burning."

  He blocked his exit.

  "L
et me pass," shouted Dutreuil. "There's a fire and no one can get in,because no one else has a key. Here it is. Let me pass, damn it!"

  Renine snatched the key from his hand and, holding him by the collar of hiscoat:

  "Don't you move, my fine fellow! The game's up! You precious blackguard! M.Morisseau, will you give orders to the sergeant not to let him out of hissight and to blow out his brains if he tries to get away? Sergeant, we relyon you! Put a bullet into him, if necessary!..."

  He hurried up the stairs, followed by Hortense and the chief inspector, whowas protesting rather peevishly:

  "But, I say, look here, it wasn't he who set the place on fire! How do youmake out that he set it on fire, seeing that he never left us?"

  "Why, he set it on fire beforehand, to be sure!"

  "How? I ask you, how?"

  "How do I know? But a fire doesn't break out like that, for no reason atall, at the very moment when a man wants to burn compromising papers."

  They heard a commotion upstairs. It was the waiters of the restauranttrying to burst the door open. An acrid smell filled the well of thestair-case.

  Renine reached the top floor:

  "By your leave, friends. I have the key."

  He inserted it in the lock and opened the door.

  He was met by a gust of smoke so dense that one might well have supposedthe whole floor to be ablaze. Renine at once saw that the fire had gone outof its own accord, for lack of fuel, and that there were no more flames:

  "M. Morisseau, you won't let any one come in with us, will you? An intrudermight spoil everything. Bolt the door, that will be best."

  He stepped into the front room, where the fire had obviously had its chiefcentre. The furniture, the walls and the ceiling, though blackened by thesmoke, had not been touched. As a matter of fact, the fire was confined toa blaze of papers which was still burning in the middle of the room, infront of the window.

  Renine struck his forehead:

  "What a fool I am! What an unspeakable ass!"

  "Why?" asked the inspector.

  "The hat-box, of course! The cardboard hat-box which was standing on thetable. That's where he hid the notes. They were there all through oursearch."

  "Impossible!"

  "Why, yes, we always overlook that particular hiding-place, the one justunder our eyes, within reach of our hands! How could one imagine that athief would leave sixty thousand francs in an open cardboard box, in whichhe places his hat when he comes in, with an absent-minded air? That's justthe one place we don't look in.... Well played, M. Dutreuil!"

  The inspector, who remained incredulous, repeated:

  "No, no, impossible! We were with him and he could not have started thefire himself."

  "Everything was prepared beforehand on the supposition that there might bean alarm.... The hat-box ... the tissue paper ... the bank-notes: they mustall have been steeped in some inflammable liquid. He must have thrown amatch, a chemical preparation or what not into it, as we were leaving."

  "But we should have seen him, hang it all! And then is it credible thata man who has committed a murder for the sake of sixty thousand francsshould do away with the money in this way? If the hiding-place was sucha good one--and it was, because we never discovered it--why this uselessdestruction?"

  "He got frightened, M. Morisseau. Remember that his head is at stakeand he knows it. Anything rather than the guillotine; and they--thebank-notes--were the only proof which we had against him. How could hehave left them where they were?"

  Morisseau was flabbergasted:

  "What! The only proof?"

  "Why, obviously!"

  "But your witnesses? Your evidence? All that you were going to tell thechief?"

  "Mere bluff."

  "Well, upon my word," growled the bewildered inspector, "you're a coolcustomer!"

  "Would you have taken action without my bluff?"

  "No."

  "Then what more do you want?"

  Renine stooped to stir the ashes. But there was nothing left, not eventhose remnants of stiff paper which still retain their shape.

  "Nothing," he said. "It's queer, all the same! How the deuce did he manageto set the thing alight?"

  He stood up, looking attentively about him. Hortense had a feeling that hewas making his supreme effort and that, after this last struggle in thedark, he would either have devised his plan of victory or admit that he wasbeaten.

  Faltering with anxiety, she asked:

  "It's all up, isn't it?"

  "No, no," he said, thoughtfully, "it's not all up. It was, a few secondsago. But now there is a gleam of light ... and one that gives me hope."

  "God grant that it may be justified!"

  "We must go slowly," he said. "It is only an attempt, but a fine, a veryfine attempt; and it may succeed."

  He was silent for a moment; then, with an amused smile and a click of thetongue, he said:

  "An infernally clever fellow, that Dutreuil! His trick of burning thenotes: what a fertile imagination! And what coolness! A pretty dance thebeggar has led me! He's a master!"

  He fetched a broom from the kitchen and swept a part of the ashes into thenext room, returning with a hat-box of the same size and appearance as theone which had been burnt. After crumpling the tissue paper with which itwas filled, he placed the hat-box on the little table and set fire to itwith a match.

  It burst into flames, which he extinguished when they had consumed halfthe cardboard and nearly all the paper. Then he took from an inner pocketof his waistcoat a bundle of bank-notes and selected six, which he burntalmost completely, arranging the remains and hiding the rest of the notesat the bottom of the box, among the ashes and the blackened bits of paper:

  "M. Morisseau," he said, when he had done, "I am asking for your assistancefor the last time. Go and fetch Dutreuil. Tell him just this: 'You areunmasked. The notes did not catch fire. Come with me.' And bring him uphere."

  Despite his hesitation and his fear of exceeding his instructions from thehead of the detective service, the chief-inspector was powerless to throwoff the ascendancy which Renine had acquired over him. He left the room.

  Renine turned to Hortense:

  "Do you understand my plan of battle?"

  "Yes," she said, "but it's a dangerous experiment. Do you think thatDutreuil will fall into the trap?"

  "Everything depends on the state of his nerves and the degree ofdemoralization to which he is reduced. A surprise attack may very well dofor him."

  "Nevertheless, suppose he recognizes by some sign that the box has beenchanged?"

  "Oh, of course, he has a few chances in his favour! The fellow is much morecunning than I thought and quite capable of wriggling out of the trap.On the other hand, however, how uneasy he must be! How the blood must bebuzzing in his ears and obscuring his sight! No, I don't think that he willavoid the trap.... He will give in.... He will give in...."

  They exchanged no more words. Renine did not move. Hortense was stirred tothe very depths of her being. The life of an innocent man hung trembling inthe balance. An error of judgment, a little bad luck ... and, twelve hourslater, Jacques Aubrieux would be put to death. And together with a horribleanguish she experienced, in spite of all, a feeling of eager curiosity.What was Prince Renine going to do? What would be the outcome of theexperiment on which he was venturing? What resistance would Gaston Dutreuiloffer? She lived through one of those minutes of superhuman tension inwhich life becomes intensified until it reaches its utmost value.

  They heard footsteps on the stairs, the footsteps of men in a hurry. Thesound drew nearer. They were reaching the top floor.

  Hortense looked at her companion. He had stood up and was listening, hisfeatures already transfigured by action. The footsteps were now echoing inthe passage. Then, suddenly, he ran to the door and cried:

  "Quick! Let's make an end of it!"

  Two or three detectives and a couple of waiters entered. He caught hold ofDutreuil in the midst of the detectives and pulled him by t
he arm, gailyexclaiming:

  "Well done, old man! That trick of yours with the table and thewater-bottle was really splendid! A masterpiece, on my word! Only, itdidn't come off!"

  "What do you mean? What's the matter?" mumbled Gaston Dutreuil, staggering.

  "What I say: the fire burnt only half the tissue-paper and the hat-box;and, though some of the bank-notes were destroyed, like the tissue-paper,the others are there, at the bottom.... You understand? The long-soughtnotes, the great proof of the murder: they're there, where you hid them....As chance would have it, they've escaped burning.... Here, look: thereare the numbers; you can check them.... Oh, you're done for, done for, mybeauty!"

  The young man drew himself up stiffly. His eyelids quivered. He did notaccept Renine's invitation to look; he examined neither the hat-box northe bank-notes. From the first moment, without taking the time to reflectand before his instinct could warn him, he believed what he was told andcollapsed heavily into a chair, weeping.

  The surprise attack, to use Renine's expression, had succeeded. On seeingall his plans baffled and the enemy master of his secrets, the wretched manhad neither the strength nor the perspicacity necessary to defend himself.He threw up the sponge.

  Renine gave him no time to breathe:

  "Capital! You're saving your head; and that's all, my good youth! Writedown your confession and get it off your chest. Here's a fountain-pen....The luck has been against you, I admit. It was devilishly well thoughtout, your trick of the last moment. You had the bank-notes which were inyour way and which you wanted to destroy. Nothing simpler. You take a big,round-bellied water-bottle and stand it on the window-sill. It acts asa burning-glass, concentrating the rays of the sun on the cardboard andtissue-paper, all nicely prepared. Ten minutes later, it bursts intoflames. A splendid idea! And, like all great discoveries, it came quiteby chance, what? It reminds one of Newton's apple.... One day, the sun,passing through the water in that bottle, must have set fire to a scrap ofcotton or the head of a match; and, as you had the sun at your disposaljust now, you said to yourself, 'Now's the time,' and stood the bottle inthe right position. My congratulations, Gaston!... Look, here's a sheet ofpaper. Write down: 'It was I who murdered M. Guillaume.' Write, I tellyou!"

  Leaning over the young man, with all his implacable force of will hecompelled him to write, guiding his hand and dictating the sentences.Dutreuil, exhausted, at the end of his strength, wrote as he was told.

  "Here's the confession, Mr. Chief-inspector," said Renine. "You will begood enough to take it to M. Dudouis. These gentlemen," turning to thewaiters, from the restaurant, "will, I am sure, consent to serve aswitnesses."

  And, seeing that Dutreuil, overwhelmed by what had happened, did not move,he gave him a shake:

  "Hi, you, look alive! Now that you've been fool enough to confess, make anend of the job, my gentle idiot!"

  The other watched him, standing in front of him.

  "Obviously," Renine continued, "you're only a simpleton. The hat-box wasfairly burnt to ashes: so were the notes. That hat-box, my dear fellow, isa different one; and those notes belong to me. I even burnt six of them tomake you swallow the stunt. And you couldn't make out what had happened.What an owl you must be! To furnish me with evidence at the last moment,when I hadn't a single proof of my own! And such evidence! A writtenconfession! Written before witnesses!... Look here, my man, if they do cutoff your head--as I sincerely hope they will--upon my word, you'll havejolly well deserved it! Good-bye, Dutreuil!"

  * * * * *

  Downstairs, in the street, Renine asked Hortense Daniel to take the car, goto Madeleine Aubrieux and tell her what had happened.

  "And you?" asked Hortense.

  "I have a lot to do ... urgent appointments...."

  "And you deny yourself the pleasure of bringing the good news?"

  "It's one of the pleasures that pall upon one. The only pleasure that neverflags is that of the fight itself. Afterwards, things cease to beinteresting."

  She took his hand and for a moment held it in both her own. She would haveliked to express all her admiration to that strange man, who seemed todo good as a sort of game and who did it with something like genius. Butshe was unable to speak. All these rapid incidents had upset her. Emotionconstricted her throat and brought the tears to her eyes.

  Renine bowed his head, saying:

  "Thank you. I have my reward."