“Besides the old woman there was another servant, a man, Hippolyte, who served in the house and drove the carriage when it was wanted—­a respectable man.  He always touched his hat when Mme. Rossignol came out of the house.  He slept in the house at night, although the stable was at the end of the street.  I thought he was probably the son of Jeanne, the servant-woman.  He was young, and his hair was plastered down upon his forehead, and he was altogether satisfied with himself and a great favorite amongst the servants in the street.  The carriage and the horse were hired from Geneva.  That is the household of Mme. Rossignol.”

So far, Mr. Ricardo read in silence.  Then he broke out again.

“But we have them!  The red-haired woman called Adele; the man with the little black moustache.  It was he who drove the motor-car!”

Hanaud held up his hand to check the flow of words, and both read on again: 

“At three o’clock on Tuesday afternoon madame was driven away in the carriage, and I did not see it return all that evening.  Of course, it may have returned to the stables by another road.  But it was not unusual for the carriage to take her into Geneva and wait a long time.  I went to bed at eleven, but in the night M. Gobin was restless, and I rose to get him some medicine.  We slept in the front of the house, monsieur, and while I was searching for the matches upon the table in the middle of the room I heard the sound of carriage wheels in the silent street.  I went to the window, and, raising a corner of the curtains, looked out.  M. Gobin called to me fretfully from the bed to know why I did not light the candle and get him what he wanted.  I have already told you how fretful sick men can be, always complaining if just for a minute one distracts oneself by looking out of the window.  But there!  One can do nothing to please them.  Yet how right I was to raise the blind and look out of the window!  For if I had obeyed my husband I might have lost four thousand francs.  And four thousand francs are not to be sneezed at by a poor woman whose husband lies in bed.

“I saw the carriage stop at Mme. Rossignol’s house.  Almost at once the house door was opened by the old servant, although the hall of the house and all the windows in the front were dark.  That was the first thing that surprised me.  For when madame came home late and the house was dark, she used to let herself in with a latchkey.  Now, in the dark house, in the early morning, a servant was watching for them.  It was strange.

“As soon as the door of the house was opened the door of the carriage opened too, and a young lady stepped quickly out on to the pavement.  The train of her dress caught in the door, and she turned round, stooped, freed it with her hand, and held it up off the ground.  The night was clear, and there was a lamp in the street close by the door of Mme. Rossignol’s house.  As she turned I saw