"Maxence is not here?" he asked at once.
"We have not seen him," answered Mlle. Gilberte.
He seemed so much surprised, that Mme. Favoral was frightened.
"What is the matter again, good God!" she exclaimed.
"Nothing, madame," said M. de Tregars, - "nothing that should alarm you. Compelled, about two hours ago, to part from Maxence, I was to have met him here. Since he has not come, he must have been detained. I know where; and I will ask your permission to run and join him."
He went out; but Mlle. Gilberte followed him in the hall, and, taking his hand, "How kind of you!" she began, "and how can we ever sufficiently thank you?"
He interrupted her.
"You owe me no thanks, my beloved; for, in what I am doing, there is more selfishness than you think. It is my own cause, more than yours, that I am defending. Any way, every thing is going on well."
And, without giving any more explanations, he started again. He had no doubt that Maxence, after leaving him, had run to the Hotel des Folies to give to Mlle. Lucienne an account of the day's work.
And, though somewhat annoyed that he had tarried so long, on second thought, he was not surprised.
It was, therefore, to the Hotel des Folies that he was going. Now that he had unmasked his batteries and begun the struggle, he was not sorry to meet Mlle Lucienne.
In less than five minutes he had reached the Boulevard du Temple.
In front of the Fortins' narrow corridor a dozen idlers were standing, talking.
M. de Tregars was listening as he went along.
"It is a frightful accident," said one, - "such a pretty girl, and so young too!"
"As to me," said another, "it is the driver that I pity the most; for after all, if that pretty miss was in that carriage, it was for her own pleasure; whereas, the poor coachman was only attending to his business."
A confused presentiment oppressed M. de Tregars' heart. Addressing himself to one of those worthy citizens, "Have you heard any particulars?
Flattered by the confidence, "Certainly I have," he replied. "I didn't see the thing with my own proper eyes; but my wife did. It was terrible. The carriage, a magnificent private carriage too, came from the direction of the Madeleine. The horses had run away; and already there had been an accident in the Place du Chateau d'Eau, where an old woman had been knocked down. Suddenly, here, over there, opposite the toy-shop, which is mine, by the way, the wheel of the carriage catches into the wheel of an enormous truck; and at once, palata! the coachman is thrown down, and so is the lady, who was inside, - a very pretty girl, who lives in this hotel."
Leaving there the obliging narrator, M. de Tregars rushed through the narrow corridor of the Hotel des Folies. At the moment when he reached the yard, he found himself in presence of Maxence.
Pale, his head bare, his eyes wild, shaking with a nervous chill, the poor fellow looked like a madman. Noticing M. de Tregars, "Ah, my friend!" he exclaimed, "what misfortune'"
"Lucienne?"
"Dead, perhaps. The doctor will not answer for her recovery. I am going to the druggist's to get a prescription."
He was interrupted by the commissary of police, whose kind protection had hitherto preserved Mlle. Lucienne. He was coming out of the little room on the ground-floor, which the Fortins used for an office, bedroom, and dining-room.
He had recognized Marius de Tregars, and, coming up to him, he pressed his hand, saying, "Well, you know?"
"Yes."
"It is my fault, M. le Marquis; for we were fully notified. I knew so well that Mlle. Lucienne's existence was threatened, I was so fully expecting a new attempt upon her life, that, whenever she went out riding, it was one of my men, wearing a footman's livery, who took his seat by the side of the coachman. To-day my man was so busy, that I said to myself, 'Bash, for once!' And behold the consequences!"
It was with inexpressible astonishment that Maxence was listening.
It was with a profound stupor that he discovered between Marius and the commissary that serious intimacy which is the result of long intercourse, real esteem, and common hopes.
"It is not an accident, then," remarked M. de Tregars.
"The coachman has spoken, doubtless?"
"No: the wretch was killed on the spot."
And, without waiting for another question, "But don't let us stay here," said the commissary.
"Whilst Maxence runs to the drug-store, let us go into the Fortins' office."
The husband was alone there, the wife being at that moment with Mlle. Lucienne.
"Do me the favor to go and take a walk for about fifteen minutes," said the commissary to him. "We have to talk, this gentleman and myself."
Humbly, without a word, and like a man who does himself justice, M. Fortin slipped off.
And at once, - "It is clear, M. le Marquis, it is manifest, that a crime has been committed. Listen, and judge for yourself. I was just rising from dinner, when I was notified of what was called our poor Lucienne's accident. Without even changing my clothes, I ran. The carriage was lying in the street, broken to pieces. Two policemen were holding the horses, which had been stopped. I inquire. I learn that Lucienne, picked up by Maxence, has been able to drag herself as far as the Hotel des Folies, and that the driver has been taken to the nearest drug-store. Furious at my own negligence, and tormented by vague suspicions, it is to the druggist's that I go first, and in all haste. The driver was in a backroom, stretched on a mattress.
"His head having struck the angle of the curbstone, his skull was broken; and he had just breathed his last. It was, apparently, the annihilation of the hope which I had, of enlightening myself by questioning this man. Nevertheless, I give orders to have him searched. No paper is discovered upon him to establish his identity; but, in one of the pockets of his pantaloons, do you know what they find? Two bank-notes of a thousand francs each, carefully wrapped up in a fragment of newspaper."
M. de Tregars had shuddered.
"What a revelation!" he murmured.
It was not to the present circumstance that he applied that word.