“Ah,” said Ganimard, “nothing escapes you! Upon my word, you’re a fine fellow and old Ganimard lays down his arms before you!”
Beautrelet flushed with pleasure and pressed the hand which the chief-inspector held out to him. The three men had drawn near the balcony and their eyes now took in the extent of the ruins. M. Filleul muttered:
“So he ought to be there.”
“He is there,” said Beautrelet, in a hollow voice. “He has been there ever since the moment when he fell. Logically and practically, he could not escape without being seen by Mlle. de Saint-Véran and the two servants.”
“What proof have you?”
“His accomplices have furnished the proof. On the very morning, one of them disguised himself as a flyman and drove you here—”
“To recover the cap, which would serve to identify him.”
“Very well, but also and more particularly to examine the spot, find out and see for himself what had become of the ‘governor.’”
“And did he find out?”
“I presume so, as he knew the hiding-place. And I presume that he became aware of the desperate condition of his chief, because, under the impulse of his alarm, he committed the imprudence to write that threat: ‘Woe betide the young lady, if she has killed the governor!’”