“It’s a pity that I wasn’t informed of it, for, after all, I was very nearly crushed to death.”

This possibility did not seem to move the girl.  She said: 

“It would be a good thing to look at the mechanism and see why it became unfastened.  It’s all very old and works badly.”

“The mechanism works perfectly.  I tested it.  An accident is not enough to account for it.”

“Who could have done it, if it was not an accident?”

“Some enemy whom I am unable to name.”

“He would have been seen.”

“There was only one person who could have seen him—­yourself.  You happened to pass through my study as I was telephoning and I heard your exclamation of fright at the news about Mme. Fauville.”

“Yes, it gave me a shock.  I pity the woman so very much, whether she is guilty or not.”

“And, as you were close to the arch, with your hand within reach of the spring, the presence of an evildoer would not have escaped your notice.”

She did not lower her eyes.  A slight flush overspread her face, and she said: 

“Yes, I should at least have met him, for, from what I gather, I went out a few seconds before the accident.”

“Quite so,” he said.  “But what is so curious and unlikely is that you did not hear the loud noise of the curtain falling, nor my shouts and all the uproar I created.”

“I must have closed the door of the study by that time.  I heard nothing.”

“Then I am bound to presume that there was some one hidden in my study at that moment, and that this person is a confederate of the ruffians who committed the two murders on the Boulevard Suchet; for the Prefect of Police has just discovered under the cushions of my sofa the half of a walking-stick belonging to one of those ruffians.”

She wore an air of great surprise.  This new incident seemed really to be quite unknown to her.  He came nearer and, looking her straight in the eyes, said: 

“You must at least admit that it’s strange.”

“What’s strange?”

“This series of events, all directed against me.  Yesterday, that draft of a letter which I found in the courtyard—­the draft of the article published in the Echo de France.  This morning, first the crash of the iron curtain just as I was passing under it, next, the discovery of that walking-stick, and then, a moment ago, the poisoned water bottle—­”

She nodded her head and murmured: 

“Yes, yes—­there is an array of facts—­”

“An array of facts so significant,” he said, completing her sentence meaningly, “as to remove the least shadow of doubt.  I can feel absolutely certain of the immediate intervention of my most ruthless and daring enemy.  His presence here is proved.  He is ready to act at any moment.  His object is plain,” explained Don Luis.  “By means of the anonymous article, by means of that half of the walking-stick, he meant to compromise