The clerk gave a grimace, which might at will have been taken as a mark of politeness or of insolence, and withdrew. M. Mayeur, doubtless tired of questioning, looked steadily at Baudoin, and invited him to explain himself.
“I undertook, monsieur, to inform you of whatever fresh might happen concerning the Vanves affair. I have come to keep my promise.”
“Has something taken place of a nature to throw light on the affair?”
“A great deal has happened.”
“What?”
“A fire, a murder, and a robbery!”
M. Mayeur’s face lit up.
“And where have these crimes been committed?”
“At Ars, in the Aube.”
The magistrate’s countenance darkened, as though the inner light which had just illumined it had died away. He said—