Not only have I never met him, but I have never heard the Countess mention his name."
"It will surprise you, then, to be told that he called at her apartment in the Via Margutta on the very evening of her departure from Rome.
Called, was admitted, was closeted with her for more than an hour."
"I am surprised, astounded.
I called there myself about four in the afternoon to offer my services for the journey, and I too stayed till after five.
I can hardly believe it."
"I have more surprises for you, General.
What will you think when I tell you that this very Quadling—this friend, acquaintance, call him what you please, but at least intimate enough to pay her a visit on the eve of a long journey—was the man found murdered in the sleeping-car?"
"Can it be possible?
Are you sure?" cried Sir Charles, almost starting from his chair. "And what do you deduce from all this?
What do you imply?
An accusation against that lady?
Absurd!"
"I respect your chivalrous desire to stand up for a lady who calls you her friend, but we are officials first, and sentiment cannot be permitted to influence us.
We have good reasons for suspecting that lady.
I tell you that frankly, and trust to you as a soldier and man of honour not to abuse the confidence reposed in you."
"May I not know those reasons?"
"Because she was in the car—the only woman, you understand—between Laroche and Paris."
"Do you suspect a female hand, then?" asked the General, evidently much interested and impressed.
"That is so, although I am exceeding my duty in revealing this."
"And you are satisfied that this lady, a refined, delicate person in the best society, of the highest character,—believe me, I know that to be the case,—whom you yet suspect of an atrocious crime, was the only female in the car?"
"Obviously.
Who else?
What other woman could possibly have been in the car?
No one got in at Laroche; the train never stopped till it reached Paris."
"On that last point at least you are quite mistaken, I assure you. Why not upon the other also?"
"The train stopped?" interjected the detective. "Why has no one told us that?"
"Possibly because you never asked.
But it is nevertheless the fact.
Verify it.
Every one will tell you the same."
The detective himself hurried to the door and called in the porter.
He was within his rights, of course, but the action showed distrust, at which the General only smiled, but he laughed outright when the still stupid and half-dazed porter, of course, corroborated the statement at once.
"At whose instance was the train pulled up?" asked the detective, and the Judge nodded his head approvingly.
To know that would fix fresh suspicion.
But the porter could not answer the question.
Some one had rung the alarm-bell—so at least the conductor had declared; otherwise they should not have stopped.
Yet he, the porter, had not done so, nor did any passenger come forward to admit giving the signal.
But there had been a halt. Yes, assuredly.
"This is a new light," the Judge confessed. "Do you draw any conclusion from it?" he went on to ask the General.
"That is surely your business.
I have only elicited the fact to disprove your theory.
But if you wish, I will tell you how it strikes me."
The Judge bowed assent.
"The bare fact that the train was halted would mean little.
That would be the natural act of a timid or excitable person involved indirectly in such a catastrophe.
But to disavow the act starts suspicion.
The fair inference is that there was some reason, an unavowable reason, for halting the train."
"And that reason would be—"
"You must see it without my assistance, surely!