"A way out into the open fields?"
"Yes, a road which joins the departmental highway three quarters of a mile from here.... And do you know where?"
"Where?"
"At the corner of the château."
"Jérôme Vignal's château?"
"By Jove, this is beginning to look serious! If the trail leads to the château and stops there, we shall know where we stand."
The trail did continue to the château, as they were able to perceive after following it across the undulating fields, on which the snow lay heaped in places. The approach to the main gates had been swept, but they saw that another trail, formed by the two wheels of a vehicle, was running in the opposite direction to the village.
The sergeant rang the bell. The porter, who had also been sweeping the drive, came to the gates, with a broom in his hand. In answer to a question, the man said that M. Vignal had gone away that morning before anyone else was up and that he himself had harnessed the horse to the trap.
"In that case," said Rénine, when they had moved away, "all we have to do is to follow the tracks of the wheels."
"That will be no use," said the sergeant. "They have taken the railway."