Part 28

"And that vest is Guespin's?"

"Exactly so. It was recognized by all the domestics, and Guespin himself did not hesitate to admit that it belonged to him. But that is not all--"

M. Domini stopped as if to take breath, but really to keep Plantat in suspense. As they differed in their theories, he thought Plantat betrayed a stupid opposition to him; and he was not sorry to have a chance for a little triumph.

"That is not all," he went on; "this vest had, in the right pocket, a large rent, and a piece of it had been torn off. Do you know what became of that piece of Guespin's vest?"

"Ah," muttered M. Plantat, "it was that which we found in the countess's hand."

"You are right, Monsieur. And what think you of this proof, pray, of the prisoner's guilt?"

M. Plantat seemed amazed; his arms fell at his side. As for M. Lecoq, who, in presence of the judge, had resumed his haberdasher manner, he was so much surprised that he nearly strangled himself with a lozenge.

"A thousand devils!" exclaimed he. "That's tough, that is!" He smiled sillily, and added in a low tone, meant only for Plantat's ear.

"Mighty tough! Though quite foreseen in our calculations. The countess held a piece of cloth tightly in her hand; therefore it was put there, intentionally, by the murderers."

M. Domini did not hear this remark. He shook hands with M. Plantat and made an appointment to meet him on the morrow, at the court-house. Then he went away with his clerk.

Guespin and old Bertaud, handcuffed, had a few minutes before being led off to the prison of Corbeil, under the guard of the Orcival gendarmes.

VIII

Dr. Gendron had just finished his sad task in the billiard-room. He had taken off his long coat, and pulled up his shirt-sleeves above his elbows. His instruments lay on a table near him; he had covered the body with a long white sheet. Night had come, and a large lamp, with a crystal globe, lighted up the gloomy scene. The doctor, leaning over a water-basin, was washing his hands, when the old justice of the peace and the detective entered.

"Ah, it's you, Plantat," said the doctor in a suppressed tone; "where is Monsieur Domini?"

"Gone."

The doctor did not take the trouble to repress a vexed motion.

"I must speak with him, though," said he, "it's absolutely necessary--and the sooner the better; for perhaps I am wrong--I may be mistaken--"

M. Lecoq and M. Plantat approached him, having carefully closed the door. The doctor was paler than the corpse which lay under the sheet. His usually calm features betrayed great distress. This change could not have been caused by the task in which he had been engaged. Of course it was a painful one; but M. Gendron was one of those experienced practitioners who have felt the pulse of every human misery, and whose disgust had become torpid by the most hideous spectacles. He must have discovered something extraordinary.

"I am going to ask you what you asked me a while ago," said M. Plantat. "Are you ill or suffering?"

M. Gendron shook his head sorrowfully, and answered, slowly and emphatically:

"I will answer you, as you did me; 'tis nothing, I am already better."

Then these two, equally profound, turned away their heads, as if fearing to exchange their ideas; they doubted lest their looks should betray them.

M. Lecoq advanced and spoke.

"I believe I know the cause of the doctor's emotion. He has just discovered that Madame de Tremorel was killed by a single blow, and that the assassins afterward set themselves to disfiguring the body, when it was nearly cold."

The doctor's eyes fastened on the detective, with a stupefied expression.

"How could you divine that?" he asked.

"Oh, I didn't guess it alone; I ought to share the honor of the theory which has enabled us to foresee this fact, with Monsieur Plantat."

"Oh," cried the doctor, striking his forehead, "now, I recollect your advice; in my worry, I must say, I had quite forgotten it.