Gaston Sauverand, beside himself, with his eyes starting from his head, muttered:
"Is it true? Is Marie the victim of the same mistake as myself? Perhaps they have arrested her? She, she in prison!"
He raised his clenched fists in a threatening manner against all the unknown enemies by whom he was surrounded, against those who were persecuting him, those who had murdered Hippolyte Fauville and delivered Marie Fauville to the police.
Mazeroux and Chief Inspector Ancenis took hold of him roughly. He made a movement of resistance, as though he intended to thrust back his aggressors. But it was only momentary; and he sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands:
"What a mystery!" he stammered. "I don't understand! I don't understand—"
Weber, who had gone out a few minutes before, returned. M.
Desmalions asked:
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Préfet, I have had the taxi brought up to the gate beside your car."
"How many of you are there?"
"Eight. Two detectives have just arrived from the commissary's."