Hanaud answered gravely, and had no need tobe more
explicit. It will be a matter of a few minutesfor you.
Life is real, lifeis earnest, and the grave is
certainly somebodys goal. Yes, she was startled here and stopped dead, suddenly,
said Hanaud. Hanaud grumbledout an oath under his breath. He switched on all the
lights of the room one after another, and all ofthem burned brightly. Ricardo
reflected, irritated, and at the same time disappointed. And suddenly here, at the
end of the avenue,the docks in view.
The face was a mask, butof an artistry which was
exquisite and astounding.
It is better so, the Commissaire Herbesthal
agreed.
That man wont believe anything unless he has
discovered it himself,Mr. She would not have waited to see, argued
Hanaud.
So let us cause as little annoyance as we
can.
But for the moment he had had enough of advancing
theoriesand making explanations. Discouragement becamevisible in the limpness of his
attitude.
There, just opposite to us, is the window of Evelyn
Devenish. Ricardo knew Hanaud well enough to realize that he was now in a
greathurry.
Now we will see what itis that our excellent
gendarme there is guarding for our inspection. Yes, she was startled here and
stopped dead, suddenly, said Hanaud.
And it vanished through the window of this room, at
the door of which Iam standing?
Here she stood, that young lady, whilst herheart
fluttered down in despair.
You will remember that I saw him leaning forward
over theback of a chair. Suppose that after she had turned the light out, she
creptupstairs to her room! Hanaud turned to Corbie as he spoke and handed him back
the three pairsof shoes.
He selected aforceps and in a trice the box was
open.
Clear as the night was afterwards, monsieur, clear
and dark, thegardener went on, all in one voice.
Hanaud asked of him, but now eagerly, without a
trace of irony orridicule in his voice.
Ricardo, or anyone who looks thisway, may say to
himself: Oh, that industrious young man!
Then do the same with theshoes of that unhappy
Madame Devenish. It is clear then, said Hanaud, rising from his knees.
In a small recess in the wall at thehead of the bed
some books were standing. So we, in our turn,shall be pitiless too. The Abbe
Fauriel, the Commissaire Herbesthal replied.
It must be, then, that there is nothing to see.
Yes, that was a good idea, said Hanaud with a smile of approval.
It is better so, the Commissaire Herbesthal
agreed.
What of this fine story of a flight and a
pursuit?
Hanaud asked of him, but now eagerly, without a
trace of irony orridicule in his voice.