“I certainly would, for it is the darkest of mysteries, marvellous!”

M. Verduret enjoyed Prosper’s bewilderment.  To be sure, he was neither a good judge nor a distinguished amateur; but he was an astonished admirer, and sincere admiration is always flattering, no matter whence it comes.

“Well,” he replied, “I will explain my system.  There is nothing marvellous about it as you will soon see.  We worked together to find the solution of the problem, so you know my reasons for suspecting Clameran as the prime mover in the robbery.  As soon as I had acquired this certainty, my task was easy.  You want to know what I did?  I placed trustworthy people to watch the parties in whom I was most interested.  Joseph Dubois took charge of Clameran, and Nina Gypsy never lost sight of Mme. Fauvel and her niece.”

“I cannot comprehend how Nina ever consented to this service.”

“That is my secret,” replied M. Verduret.  “Having the assistance of good eyes and quick ears on the spot, I went to Beaucaire to inquire into the past, so as to link it with what I knew of the present.  The next day I was at Clameran; and the first step I took was to find the son of St. Jean, the old valet.  An honest man he was, too; open and simple as nature herself; and he made a good bargain in selling me his madder.”

“Madder?” said Prosper with a puzzled look; “what did you——­”

“Of course I wanted to buy his madder.  Of course I did not appear to him as I do to you now.  I was a countryman wanting to buy madder; he had madder for sale; so we began to bargain about the price.  The debate lasted almost all day, during which time we drank a dozen bottles of wine.  About supper-time, St. Jean was as drunk as a bunghole, and I had purchased nine hundred francs’ worth of madder which your father will sell to-morrow.”

Prosper’s astonished countenance made M. Verduret laugh heartily.

“I risked nine hundred francs,” he continued, “but thread by thread I gathered the whole history of the Clamerans, Gaston’s love-affair, his flight, and the stumbling of the horse ridden by Louis.  I found also that about a year ago Louis returned, sold the chateau to a man named Fougeroux, whose wife, Mihonne, had a secret interview with Louis the day of the purchase.  I went to see Mihonne.  Poor woman! her rascally husband has pounded all the sense out of her; she is almost idiotic.  I told her I came from the Clameran family, and she at once related to me everything she knew.”

The apparent simplicity of this mode of investigation confounded Prosper.  He wondered it had not occurred to him before.

“From that time,” continued M. Verduret, “the skein began to disentangle; I held the principal thread.  I now set about finding out what had become of Gaston.  Lafourcade, who is a friend of your father, informed me that he had bought a foundery, and settled in Oloron, where he soon after suddenly died.  Thirty-six hours later I was at Oloron.”