The commissary, by this time heartily tired of his responsibilities, welcomed the investigating magistrate and his agents as liberators.  He rapidly related the facts collected and read his official report.

“You have proceeded very well,” observed the investigating magistrate.  “All is stated clearly; yet there is one fact you have omitted to ascertain.”

“What is that, sir?” inquired the commissary.

“On what day was Widow Lerouge last seen, and at what hour?”

“I was coming to that presently.  She was last seen and spoken to on the evening of Shrove Tuesday, at twenty minutes past five.  She was then returning from Bougival with a basketful of purchases.”

“You are sure of the hour, sir?” inquired Gevrol.

“Perfectly, and for this reason; the two witnesses who furnished me with this fact, a woman named Tellier and a cooper who lives hard by, alighted from the omnibus which leaves Marly every hour, when they perceived the widow in the cross-road, and hastened to overtake her.  They conversed with her and only left her when they reached the door of her own house.”

“And what had she in her basket?” asked the investigating magistrate.

“The witnesses cannot say.  They only know that she carried two sealed bottles of wine, and another of brandy.  She complained to them of headache, and said, ’Though it is customary to enjoy oneself on Shrove Tuesday, I am going to bed.’”

“So, so!” exclaimed the chief of detective police.  “I know where to search!”

“You think so?” inquired M. Daburon.

“Why, it is clear enough.  We must find the tall sunburnt man, the gallant in the blouse.  The brandy and the wine were intended for his entertainment.  The widow expected him to supper.  He came, sure enough, the amiable gallant!”

“Oh!” cried the corporal of gendarmes, evidently scandalised, “she was very old, and terribly ugly!”

Gevrol surveyed the honest fellow with an expression of contemptuous pity.  “Know, corporal,” said he, “that a woman who has money is always young and pretty, if she desires to be thought so!”

“Perhaps there is something in that,” remarked the magistrate; “but it is not what strikes me most.  I am more impressed by the remark of this unfortunate woman.  ‘If I wished for more, I could have it.’”

“That also attracted my attention,” acquiesced the commissary.

But Gevrol no longer took the trouble to listen.  He stuck to his own opinion, and began to inspect minutely every corner of the room.  Suddenly he turned towards the commissary.  “Now that I think of it,” cried he, “was it not on Tuesday that the weather changed?  It had been freezing for a fortnight past, and on that evening it rained.  At what time did the rain commence here?”

“At half-past nine,” answered the corporal.  “I went out from supper to make my circuit of the dancing halls, when I was overtaken opposite the Rue des Pecheurs by a heavy shower.  In less than ten minutes there was half an inch of water in the road.”