CHAPTER XV
THE BELLE HELENE
"There's no mistake about it," said Patrice. "The information conveyedto M. Masseron that the gold had been sent away; the speed with whichthe work was carried out, at night, mechanically, by the peoplebelonging to the boat; their alien nationality; the direction which theytook: it all agrees. The probability is that, between the cellar intowhich the gold was shot and the place where it finished its journey,there was some spot where it used to remain concealed . . . unless theeighteen hundred bags can have awaited their despatch, slung one behindthe other, along the wire. But that doesn't matter much. The great thingis to know that the _Belle Helene_, hiding somewhere in the outskirts,lay waiting for the favorable opportunity. In the old days Essares Bey,by way of precaution, used to send her a signal with the aid of thatshower of sparks which I saw. This time old Simeon, who is continuingEssares' work, no doubt on his own account, gave the crew notice; andthe bags of gold are on their way to Rouen and Le Havre, where somesteamer will take them over and carry them . . . eastwards. After all,forty or fifty tons, hidden in the hold under a layer of coal, isnothing. What do you say? That's it, isn't it? I feel positive about it.. . . Then we have Mantes, to which he took his ticket and for whichthe _Belle Helene_ is bound. Could anything be clearer? Mantes, wherehe'll pick up his cargo of gold and go on board in some seafaringdisguise, unknown and unseen. . . . Loot and looter disappearingtogether. It's as clear as daylight. Don't you agree?"
Once again Don Luis did not answer. However, he must have acquiesced inPatrice's theories, for, after a minute, he declared:
"Very well. I'll go to Mantes." And, turning to the chauffeur, "Hurryoff to the garage," he said, "and come back in the six-cylinder. I wantto be at Mantes in less than an hour. You, captain . . ."
"I shall come with you."
"And who will look after . . . ?"
"Coralie? She's in no danger! Who can attack her now? Simeon has failedin his attempt and is thinking only of saving his own skin . . . and hisbags of gold."
"You insist, do you?"
"Absolutely."
"I don't know that you're wise. However, that's your affair. Let's go.By the way, though, one precaution." He raised his voice. "Ya-Bon!"
The Senegalese came hastening up. While Ya-Bon felt for Patrice all theaffection of a faithful dog, he seemed to profess towards Don Luissomething more nearly approaching religious devotion. The adventurer'sslightest action roused him to ecstasy. He never stopped laughing in thegreat chief's presence.
"Ya-Bon, are you all right now? Is your wound healed? You don't feeltired? Good. In that case, come with me."
He led him to the quay, a short distance away from Berthou's Wharf:
"At nine o'clock this evening," he said, "you're to be on guard here, onthis bench. Bring your food and drink with you; and keep a particularlook-out for anything that happens over there, down stream. Perhapsnothing will happen at all; but never mind: you're not to move until Icome back . . . unless . . . unless something does happen, in which caseyou will act accordingly."
He paused and then continued:
"Above all, Ya-Bon, beware of Simeon. It was he who gave you that wound.If you catch sight of him, leap at his throat and bring him here. Butmind you don't kill him! No nonsense now. I don't want you to hand meover a corpse, but a live man. Do you understand, Ya-Bon?"
Patrice began to feel uneasy:
"Do you fear anything from that side?" he asked. "Look here, it's out ofthe question, as Simeon has gone . . ."
"Captain," said Don Luis, "when a good general goes in pursuit of theenemy, that does not prevent him from consolidating his hold on theconquered ground and leaving garrisons in the fortresses. Berthou'sWharf is evidently one of our adversary's rallying-points. I'm keepingit under observation."
Don Luis also took serious precautions with regard to Coralie. She wasvery much overstrained and needed rest and attention. They put her intothe car and, after making a dash at full speed towards the center ofParis, so as to throw any spies off the scent, took her to the home onthe Boulevard Maillot, where Patrice handed her over to the matron andrecommended her to the doctor's care. The staff received strict ordersto admit no strangers to see her. She was to answer no letter, unlessthe letter was signed "Captain Patrice."
At nine o'clock, the car sped down the Saint-Germain and Mantes road.Sitting inside with Don Luis, Patrice felt all the enthusiasm of victoryand indulged freely in theories, every one of which possessed for himthe value of an unimpeachable certainty. A few doubts lingered in hismind, however, points which remained obscure and on which he would havebeen glad to have Don Luis' opinion.
"There are two things," he said, "which I simply cannot understand. Inthe first place, who was the man murdered by Essares, at nineteenminutes past seven in the morning, on the fourth of April? I heard hisdying cries. Who was killed? And what became of the body?"
Don Luis was silent; and Patrice went on:
"The second point is stranger still. I mean Simeon's behavior. Here's aman who devotes his whole life to a single object, that of revenging hisfriend Belval's murder and at the same time ensuring my happiness andCoralie's. This is his one aim in life; and nothing can make him swervefrom his obsession. And then, on the day when his enemy, Essares Bey, isput out of the way, suddenly he turns round completely and persecutesCoralie and me, going to the length of using against us the horriblecontrivance which Essares Bey had employed so successfully against ourparents! You really must admit that it's an amazing change! Can it bethe thought of the gold that has hypnotized him? Are his crimes to beexplained by the huge treasure placed at his disposal on the day whenhe discovered the secret? Has a decent man transformed himself into abandit to satisfy a sudden instinct? What do you think?"
Don Luis persisted in his silence. Patrice, who expected to see everyriddle solved by the famous adventurer in a twinkling, felt peevish andsurprised. He made a last attempt:
"And the golden triangle? Another mystery! For, after all, there's not atrace of a triangle in anything we've seen! Where is this goldentriangle? Have you any idea what it means?"
Don Luis allowed a moment to pass and then said:
"Captain, I have the most thorough liking for you and I take theliveliest interest in all that concerns you, but I confess that there isone problem which excludes all others and one object towards which allmy efforts are now directed. That is the pursuit of the gold of which wehave been robbed; and I don't want this gold to escape us. I havesucceeded on your side, but not yet on the other. You are both of yousafe and sound, but I haven't the eighteen hundred bags; and I wantthem, I want them."
"You'll have them, since we know where they are."
"I shall have them," said Don Luis, "when they lie spread before myeyes. Until then, I can tell you nothing."
At Mantes the enquiries did not take long. They almost immediately hadthe satisfaction of learning that a traveler, whose descriptioncorresponded with old Simeon's, had gone to the Hotel desTrois-Empereurs and was now asleep in a room on the third floor.
Don Luis took a ground-floor room, while Patrice, who would haveattracted the enemy's attention more easily, because of his lame leg,went to the Grand Hotel.
He woke late the next morning. Don Luis rang him up and told him thatSimeon, after calling at the post-office, had gone down to the river andthen to the station, where he met a fashionably-dressed woman, with herface hidden by a thick veil, and brought her back to the hotel. The twowere lunching together in the room on the third floor.
At four o'clock Don Luis rang up again, to ask Patrice to join him atonce in a little cafe at the end of the town, facing the Seine. HerePatrice saw Simeon on the quay. He was walking with his hands behind hisback, like a man strolling without any definite object.
"Comforter, spectacles, the same get-up as usual," said Patrice. "Not athing about him changed. Watch him. He's putting on an air ofindifference, but you can bet that his eyes are looking up stream, inthe direction f
rom which the _Belle Helene_ is coming."
"Yes, yes," said Don Luis. "Here's the lady."
"Oh, that's the one, is it?" said Patrice. "I've met her two or threetimes already in the street."
A dust-cloak outlined her figure and shoulders, which were wide andrather well-developed. A veil fell around the brim of her felt hat. Shegave Simeon a telegram to read. Then they talked for a moment, seemed tobe taking their bearings, passed by the cafe and stopped a little lowerdown. Here Simeon wrote a few words on a sheet of note-paper and handedit to his companion. She left him and went back into the town. Simeonresumed his walk by the riverside.
"You must stay here, captain," said Don Luis.
"But the enemy doesn't seem to be on his guard," protested Patrice."He's not turning round."
"It's better to be prudent, captain. What a pity that we can't have alook at what Simeon wrote down!"
"I might . . ."
"Go after the lady? No, no, captain. Without wishing to offend you,you're not quite cut out for it. I'm not sure that even I . . ."
And he walked away.
Patrice waited. A few boats moved up or down the river. Mechanically, heglanced at their names. And suddenly, half an hour after Don Luis hadleft him, he heard the clearly-marked rhythm, the pulsation of one ofthose powerful motors which, for a few years past, have been fitted tocertain barges.
At the bend of the river a barge appeared. As she passed in front ofhim, he distinctly and with no little excitement read the name of the_Belle Helene_!
She was gliding along at a fair pace, to the accompaniment of a regular,throbbing beat. She was big and broad in the beam, heavy and pretty deepin the water, though she appeared to carry no cargo. Patrice saw twowatermen on board, sitting and smoking carelessly. A dinghy floatedbehind at the end of a painter.
The barge went on and passed out of sight at the turn. Patrice waitedanother hour before Don Luis came back.
"Well?" he asked. "Have you seen her?"
"Yes, they let go the dinghy, a mile and a half from here, and put infor Simeon."
"Then he's gone with them?"
"Yes."
"Without suspecting anything?"
"You're asking me too much, captain!"
"Never mind! We've won! We shall catch them up in the car, pass themand, at Vernon or somewhere, inform the military and civil authorities,so that they may proceed to arrest the men and seize the boat."
"We shall inform nobody, captain. We shall proceed to carry out theselittle operations ourselves."
"What do you mean? Surely . . ."
The two looked at each other. Patrice had been unable to dissemble thethought that occurred to his mind. Don Luis showed no resentment:
"You're afraid that I shall run away with the three hundred millions? Byjingo, it's a largish parcel to hide in one's jacket-pocket!"
"Still," said Patrice, "may I ask what you intend to do?"
"You may, captain, but allow me to postpone my reply until we've reallywon. For the moment, we must first find the barge again."
They went to the Hotel des Trois-Empereurs and drove off in the cartowards Vernon. This time they were both silent.
The road joined the river a few miles lower down, at the bottom of thesteep hill which begins at Rosny. Just as they reached Rosny the _BelleHelene_ was entering the long loop which curves out to La Roche-Guyon,turns back and joins the high-road again at Bonnieres. She would need atleast three hours to cover the distance, whereas the car, climbing thehill and keeping straight ahead, arrived at Bonnieres in fifteenminutes.
They drove through the village. There was an inn a little way beyond it,on the right. Don Luis made his chauffeur stop here:
"If we are not back by twelve to-night," he said, "go home to Paris.Will you come with me, captain?"
Patrice followed him towards the right, whence a small road led them tothe river-bank. They followed this for a quarter of an hour. At last DonLuis found what he appeared to be seeking, a boat fastened to a stake,not far from a villa with closed shutters. Don Luis unhooked the chain.
It was about seven o'clock in the evening. Night was falling fast, but abrilliant moonlight lit the landscape.
"First of all," said Don Luis, "a word of explanation. We're going towait for the barge. She'll come in sight on the stroke of ten and findus lying across stream. I shall order her to heave to; and there's nodoubt that, when they see your uniform by the light of the moon or of myelectric lamp, they will obey. Then we shall go on board."
"Suppose they refuse?"
"If they refuse, we shall board her by force. There are three of themand two of us. So . . ."
"And then?"
"And then? Well, there's every reason to believe that the two menforming the crew are only extra hands, employed by Simeon, but ignorantof his actions and knowing nothing of the nature of the cargo. Once wehave reduced Simeon to helplessness and paid them handsomely, they'lltake the barge wherever I tell them. But, mind you--and this is what Iwas coming to--I mean to do with the barge exactly as I please. I shallhand over the cargo as and when I think fit. It's my booty, my prize. Noone is entitled to it but myself."
The officer drew himself up:
"Oh, I can't agree to that, you know!"
"Very well, then give me your word of honor that you'll keep a secretwhich doesn't belong to you. After which, we'll say good-night and goour own ways. I'll do the boarding alone and you can go back to your ownbusiness. Observe, however, that I am not insisting on an immediatereply. You have plenty of time to reflect and to take the decision whichyour interest, honor and conscience may dictate to you. For my part,excuse me, but you know my weakness: when circumstances give me a littlespare time, I take advantage of it to go to sleep. _Carpe somnum_, asthe poet says. Good-night, captain."
And, without another word, Don Luis wrapped himself in his great-coat,sprang into the boat and lay down.
Patrice had had to make a violent effort to restrain his anger. DonLuis' calm, ironic tone and well-bred, bantering voice got on his nervesall the more because he felt the influence of that strange man and fullyrecognized that he was incapable of acting without his assistance.Besides, he could not forget that Don Luis had saved his life andCoralie's.
The hours slipped by. The adventurer slumbered peacefully in the coolnight air. Patrice hesitated what to do, seeking for some plan ofconduct which would enable him to get at Simeon and rid himself of thatimplacable adversary and at the same time to prevent Don Luis fromlaying hands on the enormous treasure. He was dismayed at the thought ofbeing his accomplice. And yet, when the first throbs of the motor wereheard in the distance and when Don Luis awoke, Patrice was by his side,ready for action.
They did not exchange a word. A village-clock struck ten. The _BelleHelene_ was coming towards them.
Patrice felt his excitement increase. The _Belle Helene_ meant Simeon'scapture, the recovery of the millions, Coralie out of danger, the end ofthat most hideous nightmare and the total extinction of Essares'handiwork. The engine was throbbing nearer and nearer. Its loud andregular beat sounded wide over the motionless Seine. Don Luis had takenthe sculls and was pulling hard for the middle of the river. Andsuddenly they saw in the distance a black mass looming up in the whitemoonlight. Twelve or fifteen more minutes passed and the _Belle Helene_was before them.
"Shall I lend you a hand?" whispered Patrice. "It looks as if you hadthe current against you and as if you had a difficulty in gettingalong."
"Not the least difficulty," said Don Luis; and he began to hum a tune.
"But . . ."
Patrice was stupefied. The boat had turned in its own length and wasmaking for the bank.
"But, I say, I say," he said, "what's this? Are you going back? Are yougiving up? . . . I don't understand. . . . You're surely not afraidbecause they're three to our two?"
Don Luis leapt on shore at a bound and stretched out his hand to him.Patrice pushed it aside, growling:
"Will you explain what it all means?"<
br />
"Take too long," replied Don Luis. "Just one question, though. You knowthat book I found in old Simeon's room, _The Memoirs of BenjaminFranklin_: did you see it when you were making your search?"
"Look here, it seems to me we have other things to . . ."
"It's an urgent question, captain."
"Well, no, it wasn't there."
"Then that's it," said Don Luis. "We've been done brown, or rather, tobe accurate, I have. Let's be off, captain, as fast as we can."
Patrice was still in the boat. He pushed off abruptly and caught up thescull, muttering:
"As I live, I believe the beggar's getting at me!"
He was ten yards from shore when he cried:
"If you're afraid, I'll go alone. Don't want any help."
"Right you are, captain!" replied Don Luis. "I'll expect you presentlyat the inn."
* * * * *
Patrice encountered no difficulties in his undertaking. At the firstorder, which he shouted in a tone of command, the _Belle Helene_stopped; and he was able to board her peacefully. The two bargees weremen of a certain age, natives of the Basque coast. He introduced himselfas a representative of the military authorities; and they showed himover their craft. He found neither old Simeon nor the very smallest bagof gold. The hold was almost empty.
The questions and answers did not take long:
"Where are you going?"
"To Rouen. We've been requisitioned by the government for transport ofsupplies."
"But you picked up somebody on the way."
"Yes, at Mantes."
"His name, please?"
"Simeon Diodokis."
"Where's he got to?"
"He made us put him down a little after, to take the train."
"What did he want?"
"To pay us."
"For what?"
"For a shipload we took at Paris two days ago."
"Bags?"
"Yes."
"What of?"
"Don't know. We were well paid and asked no questions."
"And what's become of the load?"
"We transhipped it last night to a small steamer that came alongside ofus below Passy."
"What's the steamer's name?"
"The _Chamois_. Crew of six."
"Where is she now?"
"Ahead of us. She was going fast. She must be at Rouen by this time.Simeon Diodokis is on his way to join her."
"How long have you known Simeon Diodokis?"
"It's the first time we saw him. But we knew that he was in M. Essares'service."
"Oh, so you've worked for M. Essares?"
"Yes, often. . . . Same job and same trip."
"He called you by means of a signal, didn't he?"
"Yes, he used to light an old factory-chimney."
"Was it always bags?"
"Yes. We didn't know what was inside. He was a good payer."
Patrice asked no more questions. He hurriedly got into his boat, pulledback to shore and found Don Luis seated with a comfortable supper infront of him.
"Quick!" he said. "The cargo is on board a steamer, the _Chamois_. Wecan catch her up between Rouen and Le Havre."
Don Luis rose and handed the officer a white-paper packet:
"Here's a few sandwiches for you, captain," he said. "We've an arduousnight before us. I'm very sorry that you didn't get a sleep, as I did.Let's be off, and this time I shall drive. We'll knock some pace out ofher! Come and sit beside me, captain."
They both stepped into the car; the chauffeur took his seat behind them.But they had hardly started when Patrice exclaimed:
"Hi! What are you up to? Not this way! We're going back to Mantes orParis!"
"That's what I mean to do," said Luis, with a chuckle.
"Eh, what? Paris?"
"Well, of course!"
"Oh, look here, this is a bit too thick! Didn't I tell you that the twobargees . . . ?"
"Those bargees of yours are humbugs."
"They declared that the cargo . . ."
"Cargo? No go!"
"But the _Chamois_ . . ."
"_Chamois_? Sham was! I tell you once more, we're done, captain, donebrown! Old Simeon is a wonderful old hand! He's a match worth meeting.He gives you a run for your money. He laid a trap in which I've beenfairly caught. It's a magnificent joke, but there's moderation in allthings. We've been fooled enough to last us the rest of our lives. Let'sbe serious now."
"But . . ."
"Aren't you satisfied yet, captain? After the _Belle Helene_ do you wantto attack the _Chamois_? As you please. You can get out at Mantes: Only,I warn you, Simeon is in Paris, with three or four hours' start of us."
Patrice gave a shudder. Simeon in Paris! In Paris, where Coralie wasalone and unprotected! He made no further protest; and Don Luis ran on:
"Oh, the rascal! How well he played his hand! _The Memoirs of BenjaminFranklin_ were a master stroke. Knowing of my arrival, he said tohimself, 'Arsene Lupin is a dangerous fellow, capable of disentanglingthe affair and putting both me and the bags of gold in his pocket. Toget rid of him, there's only one thing to be done: I must act in such away as to make him rush along the real track at so fast a rate of speedthat he does not perceive the moment when the real track becomes a falsetrack.' That was clever of him, wasn't it? And so we have the Franklinbook, held out as a bait; the page opening of itself, at the rightplace; my inevitable easy discovery of the conduit system; the clue ofAriadne most obligingly offered. I follow up the clue like a trustingchild, led by Simeon's own hand, from the cellar down to Berthou'sWharf. So far all's well. But, from that moment, take care! There'snobody at Berthou's Wharf. On the other hand, there's a barge alongside,which means a chance of making enquiries, which means the certainty thatI shall make enquiries. And I make enquiries. And, having madeenquiries, I am done for."
"But then that man . . . ?"
"Yes, yes, yes, an accomplice of Simeon's, whom Simeon, knowing that hewould be followed to the Gare Saint-Lazare, instructs in this way todirect me to Mantes for the second time. At Mantes the comedy continues.The _Belle Helene_ passes, with her double freight, Simeon and the bagsof gold. We go running after the _Belle Helene_. Of course, on the_Belle Helene_ there's nothing: no Simeon, no bags of gold. 'Run afterthe _Chamois_. We've transhipped it all on the _Chamois_.' We run afterthe _Chamois_, to Rouen, to Le Havre, to the end of the world; and ofcourse our pursuit is fruitless, for the _Chamois_ does not exist. Butwe are convinced that she does exist and that she has escaped oursearch. And by this time the trick is played. The millions are gone,Simeon has disappeared and there is only one thing left for us to do,which is to resign ourselves and abandon our quest. You understand,we're to abandon our quest: that's the fellow's object. And he wouldhave succeeded if . . ."
The car was traveling at full speed. From time to time Don Luis wouldstop her dead with extraordinary skill. Post of territorials. Pass to beproduced. Then a leap onward and once more the breakneck pace.
"If what?" asked Patrice, half-convinced. "Which was the clue that putyou on the track?"
"The presence of that woman at Mantes. It was a vague clue at first. Butsuddenly I remembered that, in the first barge, the _Nonchalante_, theperson who gave us information--do you recollect?--well, that thisperson somehow gave me the queer impression, I can't tell you why, thatI might be talking to a woman in disguise. The impression occurred to meonce more. I made a mental comparison with the woman at Mantes. . . .And then . . . and then it was like a flash of light. . . ."
Don Luis paused to think and, in a lower voice, continued:
"But who the devil can this woman be?"
There was a brief silence, after which Patrice said, from instinctrather than reason:
"Gregoire, I suppose."
"Eh? What's that? Gregoire?"
"Yes. Yes, Gregoire is a woman."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, obviously. Don't you remember? The accomplice told me so, on theday when
I had them arrested outside the cafe."
"Why, your diary doesn't say a word about it!"
"Oh, that's true! . . . I forgot to put down that detail."
"A detail! He calls it a detail! Why, it's of the greatest importance,captain! If I had known, I should have guessed that that bargee was noother than Gregoire and we should not have wasted a whole night. Hang itall, captain, you really are the limit!"
But all this was unable to affect his good-humor. While Patrice,overcome with presentiments, grew gloomier and gloomier, Don Luis beganto sing victory in his turn:
"Thank goodness! The battle is becoming serious! Really, it was too easybefore; and that was why I was sulking, I, Lupin! Do you imagine thingsgo like that in real life? Does everything fit in so accurately?Benjamin Franklin, the uninterrupted conduit for the gold, the series ofclues that reveal themselves of their own accord, the man and the bagsmeeting at Mantes, the _Belle Helene_: no, it all worried me. The catwas being choked with cream! And then the gold escaping in a barge! Allvery well in times of peace, but not in war-time, in the face of theregulations: passes, patrol-boats, inspections and I don't know what.. . . How could a fellow like Simeon risk a trip of that kind? No, I hadmy suspicions; and that was why, captain, I made Ya-Bon mount guard, onthe off chance, outside Berthou's Wharf. It was just an idea thatoccurred to me. The whole of this adventure seemed to center round thewharf. Well, was I right or not? Is M. Lupin no longer able to follow ascent? Captain, I repeat, I shall go back to-morrow evening. Besides, asI told you, I've got to. Whether I win or lose, I'm going. But we shallwin. Everything will be cleared up. There will be no more mysteries, noteven the mystery of the golden triangle. . . . Oh, I don't say that Ishall bring you a beautiful triangle of eighteen-carat gold! We mustn'tallow ourselves to be fascinated by words. It may be a geometricalarrangement of the bags of gold, a triangular pile . . . or else a holein the ground dug in that shape. No matter, we shall have it! And thebags of gold shall be ours! And Patrice and Coralie shall appear beforemonsieur le maire and receive my blessing and live happily ever after!"
They reached the gates of Paris. Patrice was becoming more and moreanxious:
"Then you think the danger's over?"
"Oh, I don't say that! The play isn't finished. After the great scene ofthe third act, which we will call the scene of the oxide of carbon,there will certainly be a fourth act and perhaps a fifth. The enemy hasnot laid down his arms, by any means."
They were skirting the quays.
"Let's get down," said Don Luis.
He gave a faint whistle and repeated it three times.
"No answer," he said. "Ya-Bon's not there. The battle has begun."
"But Coralie . . ."
"What are you afraid of for her? Simeon doesn't know her address."
There was nobody on Berthou's Wharf and nobody on the quay below. But bythe light of the moon they saw the other barge, the _Nonchalante_.
"Let's go on board," said Don Luis. "I wonder if the lady known asGregoire makes a practise of living here? Has she come back, believingus on our way to Le Havre? I hope so. In any case, Ya-Bon must have beenthere and no doubt left something behind to act as a signal. Will youcome, captain?"
"Right you are. It's a queer thing, though: I feel frightened!"
"What of?" asked Don Luis, who was plucky enough himself to understandthis presentiment.
"Of what we shall see."
"My dear sir, there may be nothing there!"
Each of them switched on his pocket-lamp and felt the handle of hisrevolver. They crossed the plank between the shore and the boat. A fewsteps downwards brought them to the cabin. The door was locked.
"Hi, mate! Open this, will you?"
There was no reply. They now set about breaking it down, which was noeasy matter, for it was massive and quite unlike an ordinary cabin-door.
At last it gave way.
"By Jingo!" said Don Luis, who was the first to go in. "I didn't expectthis!"
"What?"
"Look. The woman whom they called Gregoire. She seems to be dead."
She was lying back on a little iron bedstead, with her man's blouse openat the top and her chest uncovered. Her face still bore an expression ofextreme terror. The disordered appearance of the cabin suggested that afurious struggle had taken place.
"I was right. Here, by her side, are the clothes she wore at Mantes. Butwhat's the matter, captain?"
Patrice had stifled a cry:
"There . . . opposite . . . under the window . . ."
It was a little window overlooking the river. The panes were broken.
"Well?" asked Don Luis. "What? Yes, I believe some one's been thrown outthat way."
"The veil . . . that blue veil," stammered Patrice, "is her nurse's veil. . . Coralie's. . . ."
Don Luis grew vexed:
"Nonsense! Impossible! Nobody knew her address."
"Still . . ."
"Still what? You haven't written to her? You haven't telegraphed toher?"
"Yes . . . I telegraphed to her . . . from Mantes."
"What's that? Oh, but look here. This is madness! You don't mean thatyou really telegraphed?"
"Yes, I do."
"You telegraphed from the post-office at Mantes?"
"Yes."
"And was there any one in the post-office?"
"Yes, a woman."
"What woman? The one who lies here, murdered?"
"Yes."
"But she didn't read what you wrote?"
"No, but I wrote the telegram twice over."
"And you threw the first draft anywhere, on the floor, so that any onewho came along. . . . Oh, really, captain, you must confess . . . !"
But Patrice was running towards the car and was already out of ear-shot.
Half an hour after, he returned with two telegrams which he had found onCoralie's table. The first, the one which he had sent, said:
"All well. Be easy and stay indoors. Fondest love.
"CAPTAIN PATRICE."
The second, which had evidently been despatched by Simeon, ran asfollows:
"Events taking serious turn. Plans changed. Coming back. Expect you nine o'clock this evening at the small door of your garden.
"CAPTAIN PATRICE."
This second telegram was delivered to Coralie at eight o'clock; and shehad left the home immediately afterwards.