The Mystery of Orcival [55]
M. Plantat, "your silence will confirm us in the idea that you came with the worst designs."
But it was in vain that M. Plantat wasted his persuasive eloquence. Robelot shut himself up in a ferocious and dogged silence. M. Gendron, hoping, not without reason, that he might have some influence over his former assistant, spoke:
"Answer us; what did you come for?"
Robelot made an effort; it was painful, with his broken jaw, to speak.
"I came to rob; I confess it."
"To rob-what?"
"I don't know."
"But you didn't scale a wall and risk the jail without a definite object?"
"Well, then, I wanted - "
He stopped.
"What? Go on."
"To get some rare flowers in the conservatory."
"With your cutlass, hey?" said M. Lecoq. Robelot gave him a terrible look; the detective continued:
"You needn't look at me that way - you don't scare me. And don't talk like a fool, either. If you think we are duller than you, you are mistaken - I warn you of it."
"I wanted the flower-pots," stammered the man.
"Oh, come now," cried M. Lecoq, shrugging his shoulders, "don't repeat such nonsense. You, a man that buys large estates for cash, steal flower-pots! Tell that to somebody else. You've been turned over to-night, my boy, like an old glove. You've let out in spite of yourself a secret that tormented you furiously, and you came here to get it back again. You thought that perhaps Monsieur Plantat had not told it to anybody, and you wanted to prevent him from speaking again forever."
Robelot made a sign of protesting.
"Shut up now," said M. Lecoq. "And your cutlass?"
While this conversation was going on, M. Plantat reflected.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "I've spoken too soon."
"Why so?" asked M. Lecoq. "I wanted a palpable proof for Monsieur Domini; we'll give him this rascal, and if he isn't satisfied, he's difficult to please."
"But what shall we do with him?"
"Shut him up somewhere in the house; if necessary, I'll tie him up."
"Here's a dark closet."
"Is it secure?"
"There are thick walls on three sides of it, and the fourth is closed with a double door; no openings, no windows, nothing."
"Just the place."
M. Plantat opened the closet, a black-looking hole, damp, narrow, and full of old books and papers.
"There," said M. Lecoq to his prisoner, "in here you'll be like a little king," and he pushed him into the closet. Robelot did not resist, but he asked for some water and a light. They gave him a bottle of water and a glass.
"As for a light," said M. Lecoq, "you may dispense with it. You'll be playing us some dirty trick."
M. Plantat, having shut the closet-door, took the detective's hand.
"Monsieur," said he, earnestly, "you have probably just saved my life at the peril of your own; I will not thank you. The day will come, I trust, when I may - "
The detective interrupted him with a gesture.
"You know how I constantly expose myself," said he, "once more or less does not matter much. Besides, it does not always serve a man to save his life." He was pensive a moment, then added: "You will thank me after awhile, when I have gained other titles to your gratitude."
M. Gendron also cordially shook the detective's hand, saying:
"Permit me to express my admiration of you. I had no idea what the resources of such a man as you were. You got here this morning without information, without details, and by the mere scrutiny of the scene of the crime, by the sole force of reasoning, have found the criminal: more, you have proved to us that the criminal could be no other than he whom you have named."
M. Lecoq bowed modestly. These praises evidently pleased him greatly.
Still," he answered, "I am not yet quite satisfied. The guilt of the Count de Tremorel is of course abundantly clear to me. But what motives urged him? How was he led to this terrible impulse to kill his wife, and make it appear that he, too, had been murdered?"
"Might we not conclude," remarked the doctor, "that, disgusted with Madame de Tremorel, he has got rid of her to rejoin
But it was in vain that M. Plantat wasted his persuasive eloquence. Robelot shut himself up in a ferocious and dogged silence. M. Gendron, hoping, not without reason, that he might have some influence over his former assistant, spoke:
"Answer us; what did you come for?"
Robelot made an effort; it was painful, with his broken jaw, to speak.
"I came to rob; I confess it."
"To rob-what?"
"I don't know."
"But you didn't scale a wall and risk the jail without a definite object?"
"Well, then, I wanted - "
He stopped.
"What? Go on."
"To get some rare flowers in the conservatory."
"With your cutlass, hey?" said M. Lecoq. Robelot gave him a terrible look; the detective continued:
"You needn't look at me that way - you don't scare me. And don't talk like a fool, either. If you think we are duller than you, you are mistaken - I warn you of it."
"I wanted the flower-pots," stammered the man.
"Oh, come now," cried M. Lecoq, shrugging his shoulders, "don't repeat such nonsense. You, a man that buys large estates for cash, steal flower-pots! Tell that to somebody else. You've been turned over to-night, my boy, like an old glove. You've let out in spite of yourself a secret that tormented you furiously, and you came here to get it back again. You thought that perhaps Monsieur Plantat had not told it to anybody, and you wanted to prevent him from speaking again forever."
Robelot made a sign of protesting.
"Shut up now," said M. Lecoq. "And your cutlass?"
While this conversation was going on, M. Plantat reflected.
"Perhaps," he murmured, "I've spoken too soon."
"Why so?" asked M. Lecoq. "I wanted a palpable proof for Monsieur Domini; we'll give him this rascal, and if he isn't satisfied, he's difficult to please."
"But what shall we do with him?"
"Shut him up somewhere in the house; if necessary, I'll tie him up."
"Here's a dark closet."
"Is it secure?"
"There are thick walls on three sides of it, and the fourth is closed with a double door; no openings, no windows, nothing."
"Just the place."
M. Plantat opened the closet, a black-looking hole, damp, narrow, and full of old books and papers.
"There," said M. Lecoq to his prisoner, "in here you'll be like a little king," and he pushed him into the closet. Robelot did not resist, but he asked for some water and a light. They gave him a bottle of water and a glass.
"As for a light," said M. Lecoq, "you may dispense with it. You'll be playing us some dirty trick."
M. Plantat, having shut the closet-door, took the detective's hand.
"Monsieur," said he, earnestly, "you have probably just saved my life at the peril of your own; I will not thank you. The day will come, I trust, when I may - "
The detective interrupted him with a gesture.
"You know how I constantly expose myself," said he, "once more or less does not matter much. Besides, it does not always serve a man to save his life." He was pensive a moment, then added: "You will thank me after awhile, when I have gained other titles to your gratitude."
M. Gendron also cordially shook the detective's hand, saying:
"Permit me to express my admiration of you. I had no idea what the resources of such a man as you were. You got here this morning without information, without details, and by the mere scrutiny of the scene of the crime, by the sole force of reasoning, have found the criminal: more, you have proved to us that the criminal could be no other than he whom you have named."
M. Lecoq bowed modestly. These praises evidently pleased him greatly.
Still," he answered, "I am not yet quite satisfied. The guilt of the Count de Tremorel is of course abundantly clear to me. But what motives urged him? How was he led to this terrible impulse to kill his wife, and make it appear that he, too, had been murdered?"
"Might we not conclude," remarked the doctor, "that, disgusted with Madame de Tremorel, he has got rid of her to rejoin