The yard was a small open area surrounded by sheds. Into one of these the cart was backed and the cask unpacked. M. Thomas examined it.
‘That’s certainly one of our casks,’ he said. ‘They are our own design and, so far as I am aware, are used by no one else.’
‘But, M. Thomas,’ said Lefarge, ‘can you identify it in any special manner? We do not, of course, doubt what you have said, but if it could be established that this particular cask had passed through your yard it would be important. Otherwise, if you judge only by likeness to type, we cannot be sure that some one has not copied your design to try and start a false scent.’
‘I see what you mean, but I fear I cannot certify what you want. But I’ll call the foreman and packers. Possibly some of them can help you.’
He went into another of the sheds, returning immediately with four men.
‘Look at that cask, men,’ he said. ‘Have any of you ever seen it before?’
The men advanced and inspected the cask minutely, looking at it from all sides. Two of them retreated, shaking their heads, but the third, an elderly man with white hair, spoke up.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I packed this cask not a fortnight ago.’
‘How are you so certain of that?’ asked Lefarge.
‘By this, monsieur,’ said the man, pointing to the broken stave. ‘That stave was split. I remember quite well the shape of the crack. I noticed it, and wondered if I should report it to the foreman, and then I thought it was safe enough and didn’t. But I told my mate about it. See here, Jean,’ he called to the fourth man, ‘is that the crack I showed you some days ago, or is it only like it?’