“It is a fine elm,” said Michaud, “but there’s a worm in it,—a worm which gnaws round the bark close to the roots.”
He stopped and took up a bit of the bark, saying: “See how they work.”
“You have a great many worms in this forest,” said Blondet.
Just then Michaud noticed a red spot; a moment more and he saw the head of his greyhound. He sighed.
“The scoundrels!” he said. “Madame was right.”
Michaud and Blondet examined the body and found, just as the countess had said, that some one had cut the greyhound’s throat. To prevent his barking he had been decoyed with a bit of meat, which was still between his tongue and his palate.
“Poor brute; he died of self-indulgence.”
“Like all princes,” said Blondet.
“Some one, whoever it is, has just gone, fearing that we might catch him or her,” said Michaud. “A serious offence has been committed. But for all that, I see no branches about and no lopped trees.”
Blondet and the bailiff began a cautious search, looking at each spot where they set their feet before setting them. Presently Blondet pointed to a tree beneath which the grass was flattened down and two hollows made.