"That is false!" broke in Monsieur le Préfet emphatically. "The loyalty of Monseigneur is beyond question."
"Perhaps," retorted the other with a grim smile. "At any rate, Sébastien guided the three strangers through intricate passes among the cliffs as far as the Dog's Tooth. Here the party separated: one man went one way, another the other. Sébastien and one of the strangers waited about the cliffs until dusk, then they made their way along as far as the outskirts of Monseigneur's property——"
"I protest!" ejaculated the préfet hotly.
But the Man in Grey put up his slender hand with a commanding gesture.
"One moment, I beg," he said quietly. "The stranger lurked about on the outskirts of the park until it was quite dark, then he slipped in through the gates, with Sébastien close at his heels. The gates were at once drawn to and closed. The stranger disappeared in the night. A few minutes later the report of a musket rang out through the darkness, then the soughing of the gale drowned every other sound."
"Some thief," exclaimed the préfet gruffly, "lurking round the château. No doubt Sebastian suspected him, dogged his footsteps and shot him. It is all as clear as daylight——"
"So clear, indeed," observed the Man in Grey calmly, "that you, Monsieur le Préfet, will at once communicate with the chief commissary of police. I want a squadron of mounted men to surround Monseigneur's château and a vigorous search made both inside and outside the house."
"What! Now?" gasped Monsieur Moulin.
"Yes; now!"
"But it is past ten o'clock!" he protested.