XXII
Robelot must have had rare presence of mind and courage to kill himselfin that obscure closet, without making enough noise to arouse theattention of those in the library. He had wound a string tightly aroundhis neck, and had used a piece of pencil as a twister, and so hadstrangled himself. He did not, however, betray the hideous look whichthe popular belief attributes to those who have died by strangulation.His face was pale, his eyes and mouth half open, and he had theappearance of one who has gradually and without much pain lost hisconsciousness by congestion of the brain.
"Perhaps he is not quite dead yet," said the doctor. He quickly pulledout his case of instruments and knelt beside the motionless body.
This incident seemed to annoy M. Lecoq very much; just as everythingwas, as he said, "running on wheels," his principal witness, whom he hadcaught at the peril of his life, had escaped him. M. Plantat, on thecontrary, seemed tolerably well satisfied, as if the death of Robelotfurthered projects which he was secretly nourishing, and fulfilled hissecret hopes. Besides, it little mattered if the object was to oppose M.Domini's theories and induce him to change his opinion. This corpse hadmore eloquence in it than the most explicit of confessions.
The doctor, seeing the uselessness of his pains, got up.
"It's all over," said he. "The asphyxia was accomplished in a very fewmoments."
The bone-setter's body was carefully laid on the floor in the library.
"There is nothing more to be done," said M. Plantat, "but to carry himhome; we will follow on so as to seal up his effects, which perhapscontain important papers. Run to the mairie," he added, turning to hisservant, "and get a litter and two stout men."
Dr. Gendron's presence being no longer necessary, he promised M. Plantatto rejoin him at Robelot's, and started off to inquire after M.Courtois's condition.
Louis lost no time, and soon reappeared followed, not by two, but tenmen. The body was placed on a litter and carried away. Robelot occupieda little house of three rooms, where he lived by himself; one of therooms served as a shop, and was full of plants, dried herbs, grain, andother articles appertaining to his vocation as an herbist. He slept inthe back room, which was better furnished than most country rooms. Hisbody was placed upon the bed. Among the men who had brought it was the"drummer of the town," who was at the same time the grave-digger. Thisman, expert in everything pertaining to funerals, gave all the necessaryinstructions on the present occasion, himself taking part in thelugubrious task.
Meanwhile M. Plantat examined the furniture, the keys of which had beentaken from the deceased's pocket. The value of the property found in thepossession of this man, who had, two years before, lived from day to dayon what he could pick up, were an over-whelming proof against him inaddition to the others already discovered. But M. Plantat looked in vainfor any new indications of which he was ignorant. He found deeds of theMorin property and of the Frapesle and Peyron lands; there were also twobonds, for one hundred and fifty and eight hundred and twenty francs,signed by two Orcival citizens in Robelot's favor. M. Plantat couldscarcely conceal his disappointment.
"Nothing of importance," whispered he in M. Lecoq's ear. "How do youexplain that?"
"Perfectly," responded the detective. "He was a sly rogue, this Robelot,and he was cunning enough to conceal his sudden fortune and patientenough to appear to be years accumulating it. You only find in hissecretary effects which he thought he could avow without danger. Howmuch is there in all?"
Plantat rapidly added up the different sums, and said:
"About fourteen thousand five hundred francs."
"Madame Sauvresy gave him more than that," said the detective,positively. "If he had no more than this, he would not have been such afool as to put it all into land. He must have a hoard of money concealedsomewhere."
"Of course he must. But where?"
"Ah, let me look."
He began to rummage about, peering into everything in the room, movingthe furniture, sounding the floor with his heels, and rapping on thewall here and there. Finally he came to the fireplace, before which hestopped.
"This is July," said he. "And yet there are cinders here in thefireplace."
"People sometimes neglect to clean them out in the spring."
"True; but are not these very clean and distinct? I don't find any ofthe light dust and soot on them which ought to be there after they havelain several months."
He went into the second room whither he had sent the men after they hadcompleted their task, and said:
"I wish one of you would get me a pickaxe."
All the men rushed out; M. Lecoq returned to his companion.
"Surely," muttered he, as if apart, "these cinders have been disturbedrecently, and if they have been--"
He knelt down, and pushing the cinders away, laid bare the stones of thefireplace. Then taking a thin piece of wood, he easily inserted it intothe cracks between the stones.
"See here, Monsieur Plantat," said he. "There is no cement between thesestones, and they are movable; the treasure must be here."
When the pickaxe was brought, he gave a single blow with it; the stonesgaped apart, and betrayed a wide and deep hole between them.
"Ah," cried he, with a triumphant air, "I knew it well enough."
The hole was full of rouleaux of twenty-franc pieces; on counting them,M. Lecoq found that there were nineteen thousand five hundred francs.
The old justice's face betrayed an expression of profound grief.
"That," thought he, "is the price of my poor Sauvresy's life."
M. Lecoq found a small piece of paper, covered with figures, depositedwith the gold; it seemed to be Robelot's accounts. He had put on theleft hand the sum of forty thousand francs; on the right hand, varioussums were inscribed, the total of which was twenty-one thousand fivehundred francs. It was only too clear; Mme. Sauvresy had paid Robelotforty thousand francs for the bottle of poison. There was nothing moreto learn at his house. They locked the money up in the secretary, andaffixed seals everywhere, leaving two men on guard.
But M. Lecoq was not quite satisfied yet. What was the manuscript whichPlantat had read? At first he had thought that it was simply a copy ofthe papers confided to him by Sauvresy; but it could not be that;Sauvresy couldn't have thus described the last agonizing scenes of hislife. This mystery mightily worried the detective and dampened the joyhe felt at having solved the crime at Valfeuillu. He made one moreattempt to surprise Plantat into satisfying his curiosity. Taking him bythe coat-lapel, he drew him into the embrasure of a window, and with hismost innocent air, said:
"I beg your pardon, are we going back to your house?"
"Why should we? You know the doctor is going to meet us here."
"I think we may need the papers you read to us, to convince MonsieurDomini."
M. Plantat smiled sadly, and looking steadily at him, replied:
"You are very sly, Monsieur Lecoq; but I too am sly enough to keep thelast key of the mystery of which you hold all the others."
"Believe me--" stammered M. Lecoq.
"I believe," interrupted his companion, "that you would like very wellto know the source of my information. Your memory is too good for you toforget that when I began last evening I told you that this narrative wasfor your ear alone, and that I had only one object in disclosing it--toaid our search. Why should you wish the judge of instruction to seethese notes, which are purely personal, and have no legal or authenticcharacter?"
He reflected a few moments, and added:
"I have too much confidence in you, Monsieur Lecoq, and esteem you toomuch, not to have every trust that you will not divulge these strictconfidences. What you will say will be of as much weight as anything Imight divulge--especially now that you have Robelot's body to back yourassertions, as well as the money found in his possession. If MonsieurDomini still hesitates to believe you, you know that the doctor promisesto find the poison which killed Sauvresy."
M. Plantat stopped and hesitated.
 
; "In short," he resumed, "I think you will be able to keep silence as towhat you have heard from me."
M. Lecoq took him by the hand, and pressing it significantly, said:
"Count on me, Monsieur."
At this moment Dr. Gendron appeared at the door.
"Courtois is better," said he. "He weeps like a child; but he will comeout of it."
"Heaven be praised!" cried the old justice of the peace. "Now, sinceyou've come, let us hurry off to Corbeil; Monsieur Domini, who iswaiting for us this morning, must be mad with impatience."