While Léocadia was speaking the released Patachaud, once more on his feet, made for the house of his master at a limping pace.
Mademoiselle Faillot continued to defend Fadard with violent energy. With a savage movement she pushed away the blacksmith, and falling on her knees beside the dead man lifted his head on her lap and called him tenderly by name. Every one was astounded at her affectionate demonstrations. A strange tenderness was to be detected in her voice and manner, foreign to Léocadia’s character.
“I am sorry it gives you pain, Mademoiselle,” said Jean Manant, “but he is Monsieur Barrau’s murderer.”
“I tell you he is not,” cried the grief-stricken woman, facing Jean with a glare of hatred.
“I have my revenge sooner than I expected,” said Sidonie, inaudibly.
“The dog must have been mad. My poor Cyprien! And then to have killed Savin, he must have had a weapon,” continued Léocadia. “He had no gun, you see.”
“We must prove that,” said L’Ours. They hunted around in the snow and soon produced a Lefancheux rifle.
“But that is Barrau’s,” urged Mademoiselle Faillot.
“Very likely,” said Jean, again making a search, this time assisted by Banastre among others.
Sidonie was triumphant, and Bruno now dared to hope that Catherine’s innocence would be established as well as his own. Tears of joy sprang to his eyes. All were now searching for the weapon through which Barrau had lost his life. Presently the gendarme Plagnolles returned with Bruno’s gun. It was a primitive weapon, both as to appearance and use, and under the breech the copper cap was covered with verdigris. It was not necessary for a man to be a connoisseur to observe that this weapon had been idle for more than a month.