Why I did not must have already occurred to the reader.
I knew that my real friends had always refused to believe in anything that had been said against me as regards my past life and my private affairs. And I did not want them to alter their views about me, and know that I had not been faithful to my husband. And above all, there was Marthe, my only child, my beloved daughter! She was engaged to Pierre Buisson. If I mentioned the pearls and the documents, the truth about my "friendship" with the late President Félix Faure was sure to be discovered and disclosed, not only to my friends who had always taken my part, but even to my own child, and to her betrothed. There would be a terrible scandal, my daughter's marriage would be broken off.... Although I was at the time almost out of my mind, after the pain I had endured, and the terror of the night, I fully realised the danger of mentioning the pearls and the documents, and so I held my tongue.
Not only the police-commissary, but M. Leydet, the examining magistrate, and other officials came that morning and asked a number of questions.
I was pleased—if one can be pleased in such tragic circumstances!—to see that M. Leydet was the judge in charge of the case. I had known him for several years; he was a great friend of both my husband and myself and came frequently to the house. I made up my mind that I would tell him the whole truth, if the three men and the red-haired woman could not be traced.
But for the moment I was haunted by thoughts of my mother and my husband, and ill though I was, I would go to them and attend to them. I had repeatedly asked how they were, and I had been told they were "better."
It was during the afternoon that the horrible news that they had both been murdered was gradually broken to me. My whole being reeled under this overwhelming blow. I wanted to rush to my dear dead, to look upon them, guard them, close their eyes—but they would not let me.... They said I was too weak, too ill.... They said it was impossible.... (Several weeks later, I heard that the two bodies had been taken to the Morgue for the autopsy during the morning of May 31st).... And all the time, I had to reply to endless questions.... They wanted to know what had been taken, and so I asked that the drawers and all the jewel-cases should be brought to me. Detectives brought them in and put them on my bed. I then saw that all the jewels which President Faure had given me had been stolen, and the pearls too.... M. Leydet seeing how upset I was, did his best to calm me.... I said to him: "There is a secret recess in the drawing-room wall, behind the dresser.... If you will bring to me what you find in there, I shall be better able to tell you what has been stolen during the night...."
I besought M. Leydet to send for my daughter, who was at Bellevue. I thought: "As this has no importance, what does it matter whether the jewels are found or not? I need my daughter and she needs me to give her courage after the awful shock of losing her father and her grandmother. She worshipped them both...." Alas! how ill the poor darling looked when she arrived in the evening with the Buissons. (Mariette had come from Bellevue in the morning, having been summoned by Dr. Acheray. She had left Marthe with the Buissons, and it was they who broke the dreadful news to the child during the afternoon.)
It was Dr. Acheray who told me that Marthe had come, and at the same time he said there was a motor-ambulance downstairs to take me away.... He did not want me to stay in the house where the ghastly murders had been committed. "You must go," he said, "and stay with the Buissons" (in Paris).
"If you will not let me see my mother and my husband," I replied, "allow me at least the consolation of remaining near them".... I insisted so much that the ambulance was sent back, and my poor little Marthe, after spending some time with me, went away—with M. Buisson, I believe.
I passed a terrible night.... I longed to sleep, to forget the harrowing drama, if only for an hour, but I could not. And minute after minute hundreds of thoughts flashed through my mind.... I lived through the fatal night again and again; I thought of the dead, of my daughter, of the future.... And then I wondered who were the three men in black gaberdines and soft felt hats? Who was the red-haired woman? Why had they killed my mother and my husband? Why had I been spared?... I thought of the mysterious "German," of his threatening look... he knew his way about the house.... And a key had been lost.... I thought of many officials who hated me because I knew their secrets. I thought of the documents which one of the men had demanded.... Perhaps they had killed my husband before awaking me?... Not my mother, for she had cried "Meg, Meg!"... I had heard her.... Sometimes, it seemed to me that the fatal night had only been a nightmare? Nothing had happened. I was mad, I imagined things.... Of course, my husband was now quietly sleeping in his room, and if I called my mother she would hear and come to me at once.... And then, the acute pain from the blow I had received on the head, and feeling that there had been ropes round my neck, my feet, my hands, and wadding in my mouth, that I had been bound and gagged.... And once more I lived through the night of terror, and it was worse than before, for I knew now that my husband and my mother had been killed....