‘I should think he must be. He travels a lot. London, Brussels, Berlin, Vienna—he had been at them all to my knowledge in the last two years.’
‘I’m glad it’s he and not I. But I should think this unhappy event would take away his love for travelling. I should imagine he would want to stay quiet in his own home and see no one. What do you think, M. François?’
‘Well, he hasn’t anyway, or else he can’t help himself. This is the second journey he’s made since then.’
‘You surprise me. Or rather, no, you don’t. I suppose we shouldn’t be talking about what doesn’t concern us, but I would be willing to lay a napoleon I could tell you where the first journey was to and what it was for. It was to see the Wilson Test. Am I not right?’
‘The Wilson Test, monsieur? What is that?’
‘Have you never heard of the Wilson Test? Wilson is the head of a great firm of English pump manufacturers, and each year a reward of over 10,000 francs is offered by them for any pump that can throw more water than theirs. A test is held every year, and the last one took place on Wednesday. M. Boirac would naturally be interested, being head of a pump manufactory himself. He would go to the Test.’
‘I’m afraid you would have lost your money, then, monsieur. He was away on Wednesday right enough, but I happen to know he went to Belgium.’
‘Well,’ said Lefarge, with a laugh, ‘I’m glad we didn’t bet, anyway. But,’ he added, in a changed tone, ‘maybe I’m right after all. Maybe he went from Belgium to London, or vice versa. Was he long away?’
‘He could not have done that, monsieur. He was only away two days, Wednesday and Thursday.’
‘It ought to be a lesson to me. I’m always too ready to bet on an unsupported opinion,’ and Lefarge led the conversation on to bets he had won and lost, till François excused himself to prepare for his master’s arrival.