“My little friend,” she said, “will you tell me now?”

“Yes, madame,” he replied at once.  “Sit in that chair and listen to me.  There are things you must know at once, because we have reached a dangerous hour.”

“The hat-pins first.  The hat-pins!”

Rouletabille rose lightly from the bed and, facing her, but watching something besides her, said: 

“It is necessary you should know that someone almost immediately is going to renew the attempt of the bouquet.”

Matrena sprang to her feet as quickly as though she had been told there was a bomb in the seat of her chair.  She made herself sit down again, however, in obedience to Rouletabile’s urgent look commanding absolute quiet.

“Renew the attempt of the bouquet!” she murmured in a stifled voice.  “But there is not a flower in the general’s chamber.”

“Be calm, madame.  Understand me and answer me:  You heard the tick-tack from the bouquet while you were in your own chamber?”

“Yes, with the doors open, naturally.”

“You told me the persons who came to say good-night to the general.  At that time there was no noise of tick-tack?”

“No, no.”

“Do you think that if there had been any tick-tack then you would have heard it, with all those persons talking in the room?”

“I hear everything.  I hear everything.”

“Did you go downstairs at the same time those people did?”

“No, no; I remained near the general for some time, until he was sound asleep.”

“And you heard nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“You closed the doors behind those persons?”

“Yes, the door to the great staircase.  The door of the servants’ stairway was condemned a long time ago; it has been locked by me, I alone have the key and on the inside of the door opening into the general’s chamber there is also a bolt which is always shot.  All the other doors of the chambers have been condemned by me.  In order to enter any of the four rooms on this floor it is necessary now to pass by the door of my chamber, which gives on the main staircase.”

“Perfect.  Then, no one has been able to enter the apartment.  No one had been in the apartment for at least two hours excepting you and the general, when you heard the clockwork.  From that the only conclusion is that only the general and you could have started it going.”

“What are you trying to say?” Matrena demanded, astounded.

“I wish to prove to you by this absurd conclusion, madame, that it is necessary never — never, you understand?  Never — to reason solely upon even the most evident external evidence when those seemingly-conclusive appearances are in conflict with certain moral truths that also are clear as the light of day.  The light of day for me, madame, is that the general does not desire to commit suicide and, above all, that he would not choose the strange method of suicide by clockwork.  The light of day for me is that you adore your husband and that you are ready to sacrifice your life for his.”