“So that you do not know what your master may have done?”
“I beg your pardon. I heard him open the garden door.”
“He did not appear to you different from usual?”
“No: he was as he always is,—quite cheerful: he was singing.”
“Can you show me the gun he took with him?”
“No. My master probably took it to his room.”
M. Daubigeon was about to make a remark, when the magistrate stopped him by a gesture, and eagerly asked,—
“How long is it since your master and Count Claudieuse have ceased seeing each other?”
Anthony trembled, as if a dark presentiment had entered his mind. He replied,—
“A long time: at least I think so.”