What had happened was very simple. The confessional box from which Alice had vanished was one not in use at the moment, owing to repairs in the wall behind it. These repairs had necessitated the removal of several large stones, replaced temporarily by lengths of supporting timbers between which a person might easily pass. Coquenil, with his habit of careful observation, had remarked this fact during his night in the church, and now he had taken advantage of it to effect Alice's escape. The girl had entered the confessional in the usual way, had remained there long enough to let Groener hear her voice, and had then slipped out through the open wall into the sacristy passage beyond. And the priest was Tignol!
"I scored on him that time," chuckled Coquenil, rubbing away at the woodwork and thinking of Alice hastening to the safe place he had chosen for her.
"M. Matthieu!" called Groener. "Would you mind coming here a moment?"
"I was just going to ask you to look at these carvings," replied Matthieu, coming forward innocently.
"No, no," answered the other excitedly, "a most unfortunate thing has happened. Look at that!" and he opened the door of the confessional. "She has gone—run away!"
Matthieu stared in blank surprise. "Name of a pipe!" he muttered. "Not your cousin?"
Groener nodded with half-shut eyes in which the detective caught a flash of black rage, but only a flash. In a moment the man's face was placid and good-natured as before.
"Yes," he said quietly, "my cousin has run away. It makes me sad because—Sit down a minute, M. Matthieu, I'll tell you about it."
"We'll be more quiet in here," suggested Matthieu, indicating the sacristy.
The wood carver shook his head. "I'd sooner go outside, if you don't mind. Will you join me in a glass at the tavern?"