“What? What is it?” said Massiban.
“The words don’t make sense.”
“No more they do,” replied Massiban. “‘The first is so conceived to revenge myself on the King—’ What can that mean?”
“Damn!” yelled Beautrelet.
“Well?”
“Torn! Two pages! The next two pages! Look at the marks!”
He trembled, shaking with rage and disappointment. Massiban bent forward.
“It is true—there are the ends of two pages left, like bookbinders’ guards. The marks seem pretty fresh. They’ve not been cut, but torn out—torn out with violence. Look, all the pages at the end of the book have been rumpled.”
“But who can have done it? Who?” moaned Isidore, wringing his hands. “A servant? An accomplice?”
“All the same, it may date back to a few months since,” observed Massiban.