The mayor rang.  The bell was very large; only a small gravelled court of five or six yards separated the gate from the house; nevertheless no one appeared.

The mayor rang more vigorously, then with all his strength; but in vain.

Before the gate of Mme. de Lanascol’s chateau, nearly opposite, a groom was standing, occupied in cleaning and polishing a bridle-bit.  “It’s of no use to ring, gentlemen,” said this man; “there’s nobody in the chateau.”

“How! nobody?” asked the mayor, surprised.

“I mean,” said the groom, “that there is no one there but the master and mistress.  The servants all went away last evening by the 8.40 train to Paris, to the wedding of the old cook, Madame Denis.  They ought to return this morning by the first train.  I was invited myself—­”

“Great God!” interrupted M. Courtois, “then the count and countess remained alone last night?”

“Entirely alone, Monsieur Mayor.”

“It is horrible!”

M. Plantat seemed to grow impatient during this dialogue.  “Come,” said he, “we cannot stay forever at the gate.  The gendarmes do not come; let us send for the locksmith.”  Philippe was about to hasten off, when, at the end of the road, singing and laughing were heard.  Five persons, three women and two men, soon appeared.

“Ah, there are the people of the chateau,” cried the groom, whom this morning visit seemed to annoy, “they ought to have a key.”

The domestics, seeing the group about the gate, became silent and hastened their steps.  One of them began to run ahead of the others; it was the count’s valet de chambre.

“These gentlemen perhaps wish to speak to Monsieur the Count?” asked he, having bowed to M. Plantat.

“We have rung five times, as hard as we could,” said the mayor.

“It is surprising,” said the valet de chambre, “the count sleeps very lightly.  Perhaps he has gone out.”

“Horror!” cried Philippe.  “Both of them have been murdered!” These words shocked the servants, whose gayety announced a reasonable number of healths drunk to the happiness of the newly wedded pair.  M. Courtois seemed to be studying the attitude of old Bertaud.

“A murder!” muttered the valet de chambre.  “It was for money then; it must have been known—­”

“What?” asked the mayor.

“Monsieur the Count received a very large sum yesterday morning.”

“Large! yes,” added a chambermaid.  “He had a large package of bank-bills.  Madame even said to Monsieur that she should not shut her eyes the whole night, with this immense sum in the house.”

There was a silence; each one looked at the others with a frightened air.  M. Courtois reflected.

“At what hour did you leave the chateau last evening?” asked he of the servants.

“At eight o’clock; we had dinner early.”

“You went away all together?”