“Ah, it’s you, is it? The gentleman of Nice?” he said. “I said that it was you who was with the little girl just now.”
“And it’s also the gentleman of Toulouse,” said Ralph to William. And he went on: “What have you [[253]]been messing about here for, brave boys? You were watching Bregeac’s house. What?”
“For the last two hours,” said Jodot arrogantly. “The arrival of Marescal and his detectives and the police, the departure of Aurelie, we’ve seen everything.”
“Well?” said Ralph.
“Well, I suppose that you know all about the business, that you’ve been fishing in troubled waters, and that Aurelie slips away with you, while Bregeac fights it out with Marescal. Resignation without a doubt—probably arrest as well.”
“Bregeac has just killed himself,” said Ralph.
Jodot started: “What?” he said sharply. “Bregeac? Bregeac dead!”
Ralph gazed at them curiously for a moment; then he said: “Listen to me, both of you. I’ve forbidden you to meddle with this business. You, Jodot, murdered Etienne d’Asteux, you murdered Miss Bakersfield and were the cause of the death of the brothers Loubeaux, your friends, associates and confederates. Am I to hand you over to Marescal? And you, William, you’d better know that your mother has sold me all her secrets for a big sum, and on condition that you were left alone. That promise covers the past. But, if you start afresh, it does not hold any longer. Am I to break your other arm and hand you over to Marescal?” [[254]]
William, panic-stricken, was ready to give in. But Jodot held out.
“In a word, you’re to have the treasure,” he growled. “Nothing could be plainer.”