“I assure you, gentlemen, I do not know where M. de Boiscoran has spent the evening.”

“You have no suspicion?”

“No.”

“Perhaps he went to Brechy to see a friend?”

“I do not know that he has any friends in Brechy.”

“What did he do after he came home?”

The old servant showed evident signs of embarrassment.

“Let me think,” he said.  “My master went up to his bedroom, and remained there four or five minutes.  Then he came down, ate a piece of a pie, and drank a glass of wine.  Then he lit a cigar, and told me to go to bed, adding that he would take a little walk, and undress without my help.”

“And then you went to bed?”

“Of course.”

“So that you do not know what your master may have done?”

“I beg your pardon.  I heard him open the garden door.”

“He did not appear to you different from usual?”

“No:  he was as he always is,—­quite cheerful:  he was singing.”

“Can you show me the gun he took with him?”

“No.  My master probably took it to his room.”

M. Daubigeon was about to make a remark, when the magistrate stopped him by a gesture, and eagerly asked,—­

“How long is it since your master and Count Claudieuse have ceased seeing each other?”

Anthony trembled, as if a dark presentiment had entered his mind.  He replied,—­

“A long time:  at least I think so.”

“You are aware that they are on bad terms?”

“Oh!”

“They have had great difficulties between them?”

“Something unpleasant has happened, I know; but it was not much.  As they do not visit each other, they cannot well hate each other.  Besides, I have heard master say a hundred times, that he looked upon Count Claudieuse as one of the best and most honorable men; that he respected him highly, and”—­

For a minute or so M. Galpin kept silent, thinking whether he had forgotten any thing.  Then he asked suddenly,—­

“How far is it from here to Valpinson?”

“Three miles, sir,” replied Anthony.

“If you were going there, what road would you take?”

“The high road which passes Brechy.”

“You would not go across the marsh?”

“Certainly not.”

“Why not?”

“Because the Seille is out of its banks, and the ditches are full of water.”

“Is not the way much shorter through the forest?”

“Yes, the way is shorter; but it would take more time.  The paths are very indistinct, and overgrown with briers.”

The commonwealth attorney could hardly conceal his disappointment.  Anthony’s answers seemed to become worse and worse.

“Now,” said the magistrate again, “if fire should break out at Valpinson, would you see it from here?”

“I think not, sir.  There are hills and tall woods between.”

“Can you hear the Brechy bells from here?”