Daubrecq said nothing and sat silent, with his head turned to Lupin.
“Is he looking at me? Are his eyes open or shut?” Lupin asked himself.
It worried Lupin terribly not to see his adversary’s eyes, those eyes hidden by the double obstacle of spectacles and black glasses: weak, bloodshot eyes, Mme. Mergy had told him. How could he follow the secret train of the man’s thought without seeing the expression of his face? It was almost like fighting an enemy who wielded an invisible sword.
Presently, Daubrecq spoke:
“So Mme. Mergy’s life is saved.... And she has sent you to me.... I don’t quite understand.... I hardly know the lady.”
“Now for the ticklish moment,” thought Lupin. “Have at him!”
And, in a genial, good-natured and rather shy tone, he said:
“No, monsieur le député, there are cases in which a doctor’s duty becomes very complex . . . very puzzling.... And you may think that, in taking this step.... However, to cut a long story short, while I was attending Mme. Mergy, she made a second attempt to poison herself.... Yes; the bottle, unfortunately, had been left within her reach. I snatched it from her. We had a struggle. And, railing in her fever, she said to me, in broken words, ‘He’s the man.... He’s the man.... Daubrecq the deputy.... Make him give me back my son. Tell him to . . . or else I would rather die.... Yes, now, to-night.... I would rather die.’ That’s what she said, monsieur le député.... So I thought that I ought to let you know. It is quite certain that, in the lady’s highly nervous state of mind.... Of course, I don’t know the exact meaning of her words.... I asked no questions of anybody . . . obeyed a spontaneous impulse and came straight to you.”
Daubrecq reflected for a little while and said:
“It amounts to this, doctor, that you have come to ask me if I know the whereabouts of this child whom I presume to have disappeared. Is that it?”