the nasty word! But just a small present, a pretty gift, one ortwo yellow bits, twenty, thirty, forty francs--you'd better." She shookthe soft arm she held roughly, and anything seemed preferable than to betouched by this horrible woman.
"Wait, wait!" cried the Countess, shivering all over, and, feelinghastily for her purse, she took out several napoleons.
"Aha! oho! One, two, three," said the searcher in a fat, wheedlingvoice. "Four, yes, four, five;" and she clinked the coins together inher palm, while a covetous light came into her faded eyes at the joyoussound. "Five--make it five at once, d'ye hear me?--or I'll call them inand tell them. That will go against you, my princess. What, try tobribe a poor old woman, Mother Tontaine, honest and incorruptibleTontaine? Five, then, five!"
With trembling haste the Countess emptied the whole contents of herpurse in the old hag's hand.
"_Bon aubaine_. Nice pickings. It is a misery what they pay me here. Iam, oh, so poor, and I have children, many babies. You will not tellthem--the police--you dare not. No, no, no."
Thus muttering to herself, she shambled across the room to a corner,where she stowed the money safely away. Then she came back, showed thebit of lace, and pressed it into the Countess's hands.
"Do you know this, little one? Where it comes from, where there is muchmore? I was told to look for it, to search for it on you;" and with aquick gesture she lifted the edge of the Countess's skirt, dropping itnext moment with a low, chuckling laugh.
"Oho! aha! You were right, my pretty, to pay me, my pretty--right. Andsome day, to-day, to-morrow, whenever I ask you, you will rememberMother Tontaine."
The Countess listened with dismay. What had she done? Put herself intothe power of this greedy and unscrupulous old beldame?
"And this, my princess? What have we here, aha?"
Mere Tontaine held up next the broken bit of jet ornament forinspection, and as the Countess leaned forward to examine it moreclosely, gave it into her hand.
"You recognize it, of course. But be careful, my pretty! Beware! If anyone were looking, it would ruin you. I could not save you then. Sh! saynothing, only look, and quick, give it me back. I must have it to show."
All this time the Countess was turning the jet over and over in her openpalm, with a perplexed, disturbed, but hardly a terrified air.
Yes, she knew it, or thought she knew it. It had been--But how had itcome here, into the possession of this base myrmidon of the Frenchpolice?
"Give it me, quick!" There was a loud knock at the door. "They arecoming. Remember!" Mother Tontaine put her long finger to her lip. "Nota word! I have found nothing, of course. Nothing, I can swear to that,and you will not forget Mother Tontaine?"
Now M. Flocon stood at the open door awaiting the searcher's report. Helooked much disconcerted when the old woman took him on one side andbriefly explained that the search had been altogether fruitless.
There was nothing to justify suspicion, nothing, so far as she couldfind.
The detective looked from one to the other--from the hag he had employedin this unpleasant quest, to the lady on whom it had been tried. TheCountess, to his surprise, did not complain. He had expected further andstrong upbraidings. Strange to say, she took it very quietly. There wasno indignation in her face. She was still pale, and her hands trembled,but she said nothing, made no reference, at least, to what she had justgone through.
Again he took counsel with his colleague, while the Countess was keptapart.
"What next, M. Flocon?" asked the Judge. "What shall we do with her?"
"Let her go," answered the detective, briefly.
"What! do you suggest this, sir," said the Judge, slyly. "After yourstrong and well-grounded suspicions?"
"They are as strong as ever, stronger: and I feel sure I shall yetjustify them. But what I wish now is to let her go at large, undersurveillance."
"Ah! you would shadow her?"
"Precisely. By a good agent. Galipaud, for instance. He speaks English,and he can, if necessary, follow her anywhere, even to England."
"She can be extradited," said the Commissary, with his one prominentidea of arrest.
"Do you agree, M. le Juge? Then, if you will permit me, I will give thenecessary orders, and perhaps you will inform the lady that she is freeto leave the station?"
The Countess now had reason to change her opinion of the Frenchofficials. Great politeness now replaced the first severity that hadbeen so cruel. She was told, with many bows and apologies, that herregretted but unavoidable detention was at an end. Not only was shefreely allowed to depart, but she was escorted by both M. Flocon and theCommissary outside, to where an omnibus was in waiting, and all herbaggage piled on top, even to the dressing-bag, which had been neatlyrepacked for her.
But the little silver-topped vial had not been restored to her, nor thehandkerchief.
In her joy at her deliverance, either she had not given these a secondthought, or she did not wish to appear anxious to recover them.
Nor did she notice that, as the bus passed through the gates at thebottom of the large slope that leads from the Lyons Station, it wasfollowed at a discreet distance by a modest fiacre, which pulled up,eventually, outside the Hotel Madagascar. Its occupant, M. Galipaud,kept the Countess in sight, and, entering the hotel at her heels, waitedtill she had left the office, when he held a long conference with theproprietor.
CHAPTER VIII
A first stage in the inquiry had now been reached, with results thatseemed promising, and were yet contradictory.
No doubt the watch to be set on the Countess might lead to somethingyet--something to bring first plausible suspicion to a triumphant issue;but the examination of the other occupants of the car should not beallowed to slacken on that account. The Countess might have someconfederate among them--this pestilent English General, perhaps, who hadmade himself so conspicuous in her defence; or some one of them mightthrow light upon her movements, upon her conduct during the journey.
Then, with a spasm of self-reproach, M. Flocon remembered that twodistinct suggestions had been made to him by two of the travellers, andthat, so far, he had neglected them. One was the significant hint fromthe Italian that he could materially help the inquiry. The other was theGeneral's sneering assertion that the train had not continued itsjourney uninterruptedly between Laroche and Paris.
Consulting the Judge, and laying these facts before him, it was agreedthat the Italian's offer seemed the most important, and he wasaccordingly called in next.
"Who and what are you?" asked the Judge, carelessly, but the answerroused him at once to intense interest, and he could not quite resist aglance of reproach at M. Flocon.
"My name I have given you--Natale Ripaldi. I am a detective officerbelonging to the Roman police."
"What!" cried M. Flocon, colouring deeply. "This is unheard of. Why inthe name of all the devils have you withheld this most astonishingstatement until now?"
"Monsieur surely remembers. I told him half an hour ago I had somethingimportant to communicate--"
"Yes, yes, of course. But why were you so reticent. Good Heavens!"
"Monsieur was not so encouraging that I felt disposed to force on himwhat I knew he would have to hear in due course."
"It is monstrous--quite abominable, and shall not end here. Yoursuperiors shall hear of your conduct," went on the Chief, hotly.
"They will also hear, and, I think, listen to my version of thestory,--that I offered you fairly, and at the first opportunity, all theinformation I had, and that you refused to accept it."
"You should have persisted. It was your manifest duty. You are anofficer of the law, or you say you are."
"Pray telegraph at once, if you think fit, to Rome, to the policeauthorities, and you will find that Natale Ripaldi--your humbleservant--travelled by the through express with their knowledge andauthority. And here are my credentials, my official card, some officialletters--"
"And what, in a word, have you to tell us?"
"I can tell you who the murder
ed man was."
"We know that already."
"Possibly; but only his name, I apprehend. I know his profession, hisbusiness, his object in travelling, for I was appointed to watch andfollow him. That is why I am here."
"Was he a suspicious character, then? A criminal?"
"At any rate he was absconding from Rome, with valuables."
"A thief, in fact?"
The Italian put out the palms of his hands with a gesture of doubt anddeprecation.
"Thief is a hard, ugly word. That which he was removing was, or hadbeen, his own property."
"Tut, tut! do be more explicit and get on," interrupted the littleChief, testily.
"I ask nothing better; but if questions are put to me--"
The Judge