The queer old fellow had puzzled me greatly ever since that eventful evening at Leghorn. To me there was such an absence of motive that his actions were doubly remarkable. And yet I could never get away from the fact that he knew of old Keppel's intention to go to Ragusa before it had been announced to us; and he was also well acquainted with all the facts of poor Reggie's tragic end, and the subsequent action on the part of both the police and myself. Besides, he had told me of Ernest's whereabouts, of which I was in ignorance, and now it appeared that he had been, until a moment ago, on friendly terms with the woman who had robbed me of the one man who in all the world was dear to me.
Utterly dumbfounded by his presence there, I watched him walk down the long gravelled path beside the lake, past the landing-stage, and out towards the public road. Indeed, I think I was too astonished at that moment to rise and follow the man who had declared our interests to be identical.
I turned and glanced across at the woman. She had risen, shaken out her skirts, and hastily drawn her light cape about her shoulders, as for a moment she stood in hesitation, looking after her companion.
Her brow was knit, and I seemed to watch determination becoming more and more strongly marked upon her face. Then she hurried quickly after him.
I rose, too, but a thought flashed across my mind. He had not gathered up the fragments of the letter before leaving. They were, no doubt, still there. What could the letter contain that it should so incense her?
Without hesitation I moved across to the table so lately occupied, and there saw scattered on the ground in the vicinity several pieces of torn paper, which I gathered swiftly into my hand. They were portions of a letter written on white-edged, smoke-grey paper of a fashionable pattern. Fortunately, no waiters were in the near neighbourhood, and I was enabled to continue my search, for any stray scraps might, I reflected, be of importance. After I had picked up a piece that had been blown some distance off, I placed all the fragments carefully in my pocket, and made my way toward the brightly-lit entrance.
As there were no cabs, I was compelled to walk to the station, which occupied me quite a quarter of an hour. It appeared certain that both the man and the woman would return to Paris, and that the woman hoped to meet Branca at the railway-station.
When I arrived, however, I found that the train had just departed for the Gare du Nord, and that there was not another for nearly an hour. If they had both left by the train I had so narrowly missed, then they had successfully escaped me.
The bare salle d'attente at Enghien is not a cheerful place at night, when the single gas jet is turned low, and the doors leading out upon the platform are securely locked. Here, again, I was confronted by a difficulty, namely, that if, perchance, the pair had not caught the train, they would probably enter the waiting room. To remain there was manifestly dangerous, if I did not wish my identity to be revealed.
My chief regret was that I had missed Branca. I had no means of communicating with him, for I had no idea where he was staying, and he certainly did not know my address, or else he would have sent me word that he was in Paris. All I could hope was that the woman had caught him up and detained him, and that they would return together by the next train.