“Did you speak to her?”

“Oh, no.  I had no opportunity.  Besides, she had her own friends—­ great friends, I fancy.  I caught her more than once whispering in the corner of the car with one of them.”

“And that was—?”

“I think the Italian gentleman; I am almost sure I recognized his clothes.  I did not see his face, it was turned from me—­towards hers, and very close, I may be permitted to say.”

“And they were friendly?”

“More than friendly, I should say.  Very intimate indeed.  I should not have been surprised if—­when I turned away as a matter of fact—­if he did not touch, just touch, her red lips.  It would have been excusable—­forgive me, messieurs.”

“Aha!  They were so intimate as that?  Indeed!  And did she reserve her favours exclusively for him?  Did no one else address her, pay her court on the quiet—­you understand?”

“I saw her with the porter, I believe, at Laroche, but only then.  No, the Italian was her chief companion.”

“Did any one else notice the flirtation, do you think?”

“Possibly.  There was no secrecy.  It was very marked.  We could all see.”

“And her mistress too?”

“That I will not say.  The lady I saw but little during the journey.”

A few more questions, mainly personal, as to his address, business, probable presence in Paris for the next few weeks, and M. Lafolay was permitted to depart.

The examination of the younger Frenchman, a smart, alert young man, of pleasant, insinuating address, with a quick, inquisitive eye, followed the same lines, and was distinctly corroborative on all the points to which M. Lafolay spoke.  But M. Jules Devaux had something startling to impart concerning the Countess.

When asked if he had seen her or spoken to her, he shook his head.

“No; she kept very much to herself,” he said.  “I saw her but little, hardly at all, except at Modane.  She kept her own berth.”

“Where she received her own friends?”

“Oh, beyond doubt.  The Englishmen both visited her there, but not the Italian.”

“The Italian?  Are we to infer that she knew the Italian?”

“That is what I wish to convey.  Not on the journey, though.  Between Rome and Paris she did not seem to know him.  It was afterwards; this morning, in fact, that I came to the conclusion that there was some secret understanding between them.”

“Why do you say that, M. Devaux?” cried the detective, excitedly.  “Let me urge you and implore you to speak out, and fully.  This is of the utmost, of the very first, importance.”

“Well, gentlemen, I will tell you.  As you are well aware, on arrival at this station we were all ordered to leave the car, and marched to the waiting-room, out there.  As a matter of course, the lady entered first, and she was seated when I went in.  There was a strong light on her face.”