Although he saw very well the doctor’s drift, M. Folgat started up,—
“What?” he said, “always Cocoleu?”
Dr. Seignebos tapped his forehead with the end of his finger, and replied,—
“When an idea has once made its way in there, it remains fixed. Yes, the countess has an accomplice; and that accomplice is Cocoleu; and, if he has no sense, you see the wretched idiot at least carries his devotion and his discretion very far.”
“If what you say is true, doctor, we shall never get the key of this affair; for Cocoleu will never confess.”
“Don’t swear to that. There is a way.”
He was interrupted by the sudden entrance of his servant.
“Sir,” said the latter, “there is a gendarme below who brings you a man who has to be sent to the hospital at once.”
“Show them up,” said the doctor.
“And, while the servant was gone to do his bidding, the doctor said,—