M. Filleul found him again lying flat on the around, with his hands glued to his face:
“I congratulate you, Beautrelet,” he said. “In addition to the discovery of the hiding-place, there are two points on which I have been able to verify the correctness of your assertions. First of all, the man on whom Mlle. de Saint-Véran fired was indeed Arsène Lupin, as you said from the start. Also, he lived in Paris under the name of Étienne de Vaudreix. His linen is marked with the initials E. V. That ought to be sufficient proof, I think: don’t you?”
Isidore did not stir.
“Monsieur le Comte has gone to have a horse put to. They’re sending for Dr. Jouet, who will make the usual examination. In my opinion, death must have taken place a week ago, at least. The state of decomposition of the corpse—but you don’t seem to be listening—”
“Yes, yes.”
“What I say is based upon absolute reasons. Thus, for instance—”
M. Filleul continued his demonstrations, without, however, obtaining any more manifest marks of attention. But M. de Gesvres’s return interrupted his monologue. The comte brought two letters. One was to tell him that Holmlock Shears would arrive next morning.
“Capital!” cried M. Filleul, joyfully. “Inspector Ganimard will be here too. It will be delightful.”
“The other letter is for you, Monsieur le Juge d’Instruction,” said the comte.
“Better and better,” said M. Filleul, after reading it. “There will certainly not be much for those two gentlemen to do. M. Beautrelet, I hear from Dieppe that the body of a young woman was found by some shrimpers, this morning, on the rocks.”