“Certainly she said, ‘Ah!’ But that is no proof. I, also, could very easily say, ‘Ah!’ if anybody should come and tell me that the mayor of Sauveterre was in the wrong; and still I should not be surprised.”
“Doctor!” said M. de Chandore, anxious to conciliate,—“doctor!”
But Dr. Seignebos had already turned to M. Magloire, whom he was anxious to convert, and went on,—
“Yes, the face of the Countess Claudieuse, expressed amazement; but her eyes spoke of bitter, fierce hatred, of joy, and of vengeance. And that is not all. Will you please tell me, Mr. Mayor, when Count Claudieuse was roused by the fire, was the countess by him? No, she was nursing her youngest daughter, who had the measles. Hm! What do you think of measles which make sitting up at night necessary? And when the two shots were fired, where was the countess then? Still with her daughter, and on the other side of the house from where the fire was.”
The mayor of Sauveterre was no less obstinate than the doctor. He at once objected,—
“I beg you will notice, doctor, that Count Claudieuse himself deposed how, when he ran to the fire, he found the door shut from within, just as he had left it a few hours before.”
Dr. Seignebos returned a most ironical bow, and then asked,—
“Is there really only one door in the chateau at Valpinson?”
“To my knowledge,” said M. de Chandore, “there are at least three.”
“And I must say,” added M. Magloire, “that according to M. de Boiscoran’s statement, the countess, on that evening, had gone out by the laundry-door when she came to meet him.”