“What next?”
“Next, I hurried to the commandant’s and informed the officer in charge.”
“Did he come to your house?”
“Yes; and a gentleman from the public prosecutor’s also. They searched all through the morning; and, when I saw that they were making no progress and that there was no hope left, I telegraphed to you.”
“Was the bed disarranged in his room?”
“No.”
“Nor the room disturbed in any way?”
“No. I found his pipe in its usual place, with his tobacco and the book which he was reading. There was even this little photograph of yourself in the middle of the book, marking the page.”
“Let me see it.”
Froberval passed him the photograph. Beautrelet gave a start of surprise. He had recognized himself in the snapshot, standing, with his two hands in his pockets, on a lawn from which rose trees and ruins.