While talking, the two men had crossed the ruins, turned toward the little door and were now walking beside the chapel. Beautrelet stopped:
“Do you really want to know, Monsieur le Juge d’Instruction?”
“Of course, I do.”
Beautrelet was carrying a walking-stick, a strong, knotted stick. Suddenly, with a back stroke of this stick, he smashed one of the little statues that adorned the front of the chapel.
“Why, you’re mad!” shouted M. Filleul, beside himself, rushing at the broken pieces of the statue. “You’re mad! That old saint was an admirable bit of work—”
“An admirable bit of work!” echoed Isidore, giving a whirl which brought down the Virgin Mary.
M. Filleul took hold of him round the body:
“Young man, I won’t allow you to commit—”
A wise man of the East came toppling to the ground, followed by a manger containing the Mother and Child. . . .
“If you stir another limb, I fire!”