Within an Inch of His Life by Emile Gaboriau (latest novels to read txt) 📕

“It is certainly very pretty here; but—I am afraid.”

“And of what, little one?”

She pointed to the statues, and all shuddering, she said,—

“In the evening, when it grows dark, I fancy they are moving. I think I see people hiding behind the trees, like the man who wanted to kill papa.”

“You ought to drive away those ugly notions, Miss Martha,” said M. Folgat.

But Dr. Seignebos did not allow him to go on.

“What, Martha? I did not know you were so timid. I thought, on the contrary, you were very brave. Your papa told me the night of the fire you were not afraid of any thing.”

“Papa was right.”

“And yet, when you were aroused by the flames, it must have been terrible.”

“Oh! it was not the flames which waked me, doctor.”

“Still the fire had broken out.”

“I was not asleep at that time, doctor. I had been roused by the slamming of the door, which mamma had closed very noisily when she came in.”

One and the same presentiment made M. Folgat tremble and the doctor.

“You must be mistaken, Martha,” the doctor went on. “Your mamma had not come back at the time of the fire.”

“Oh, yes, sir!”

“No, you are mistaken.”

The little girl drew herself up with that solemn air which children are apt to assume when their statements are doubted. She said,—

“I am quite sure of what I say, and I remember every thing perfectly. I had been put to bed at the usual hour, and, as I was very tired with playing, I had fallen asleep at once. While I was asleep, mamma had gone out; but her coming back waked me up. As soon as she came in, she bent over little sister’s bed, and looked at her for a moment so sadly, that I thought I should cry. Then she went, and sat down by the window; and from my bed, where I lay silently watching her, I saw the tears running down her cheeks, when all of a sudden a shot was fired.”

M. Folgat and Dr. Seignebos looked anxiously at each other.

“Then, my little one,” insisted Dr. Seignebos, “you are quite sure your mamma was in your room when the first shot was fired?”

“Certainly, doctor. And mamma, when she heard it, rose up straight, and lowered her head, like one who listens. Almost immediately, the second shot was fired. Mamma raised her hands to heaven, and cried out, ‘Great God!’ And then she went out, running fast.”

Never was a smile more false than that which Dr. Seignebos forced himself to retain on his lips while the little girl was telling her story.

“You have dreamed all that, Martha,” he said.

The governess here interposed, saying,—

“The young lady has not dreamed it, sir. I, also, heard the shots fired; and I had just opened the door of my room to hear what was going on, when I saw madame cross the landing swiftly, and rush down stairs.

“Oh! I do not doubt it,” said the doctor, in the most indifferent tone he could command: “the circumstance is very trifling.”

But the little girl was bent on finishing her story.

“When mamma had left,” she went on, “I became frightened, and raised myself on my bed to listen. Soon I heard a noise which I did not know,—cracking and snapping of wood, and then cries at a distance. I got more frightened, jumped down, and ran to open the door. But I nearly fell down, there was such a cloud of smoke and sparks. Still I did not lose my head. I waked my little sister, and tried to get on the staircase, when Cocoleu rushed in like a madman, and took us both out.”

“Martha,” called a voice from the house, “Martha!”

The child cut short her story, and said,—

“Mamma is calling me.”

And, dropping again her nice little courtesy, she said,—

“Good-by, gentlemen!”

Martha had disappeared; and Dr. Seignebos and M. Folgat, still standing on the same spot, looked at each other in utter distress.

“We have nothing more to do here,” said M. Folgat.

“No, indeed! Let us go back and make haste; for perhaps they are waiting for me. You must breakfast with me.”

They went away very much disheartened, and so absorbed in their defeat, that they forgot to return the salutations with which they were greeted in the street,—a circumstance carefully noticed by several watchful observers.

When the doctor reached home, he said to his servant,—

“This gentleman will breakfast with me. Give us a bottle of medis.”

And, when he had shown the advocate into his study, he asked,—

“And now what do you think of your adventure?”

M. Folgat looked completely undone.

“I cannot understand it,” he murmured.

“Could it be possible that the countess should have tutored the child to say what she told us?”

“No.”

“And her governess?”

“Still less. A woman of that character trusts nobody. She struggles; she triumphs or succumbs alone.”

“Then the child and the governess have told us the truth?”

“I am convinced of that.”

“So am I. Then she had no share in the murder of her husband?”

“Alas!”

M. Folgat did not notice that his “Alas!” was received by Dr. Seignebos with an air of triumph. He had taken off his spectacles, and, wiping them vigorously, he said,—

“If the countess is innocent, Jacques must be guilty, you think? Jacques must have deceived us all, then?”

M. Folgat shook his head.

“I pray you, doctor, do not press me just now. Give me time to collect my thoughts. I am bewildered by all these conjectures. No, I am sure M. de Boiscoran has not told a falsehood, and the countess has been his mistress. No, he has not deceived us; and on the night of the crime he really had an interview with the countess. Did not Martha tell us that her mother had gone out? And where could she have gone, except to meet M. de Boiscoran?”

He paused a moment.