"I can hardly believe it," muttered Fanfaro.
"Madame Caraman and Coucou are in the corridor; they will confirm my statement."
"Bring them in."
The next minute the Zouave and Caraman were in the room.
"The fault is mine! Ah, I will never forgive myself," cried Mamma Caraman, wringing her hands; and then she went on and told how Spero and Gontram had brought the wounded girl into the house, the care that had been taken of her, and how, at the suggestion of the vicomte, she had lain down on the sofa to rest for an hour.
"When I awoke," she continued, "it was broad daylight. On going over to the bed where the young girl lay, I found, to my surprise, that it was empty. I went to the vicomte's room and told him the girl had disappeared. The vicomte, without saying a word, hurried out of the house in a state of great excitement. Twenty-four hours have passed since then, and he has not been back since, and—"
"What bothers me most," interrupted Coucou, "is the fact that the vicomte took his pistols along."
Fanfaro became pensive.
"Have you any idea how the young girl was wounded?" he asked after a pause, turning to Madame Caraman.