"We then went to Mme. Dauvray's room and discovered her brilliants
and her ornaments. At once the meaning of that agitated piece of
hand-writing of Mlle. Celie's becomes clear. She is asked where
the jewels are hidden. She cannot answer, for her mouth, of
course, is stopped. She has to write. Thus my conjectures get more
and more support. And, mind this, one of the two women is guilty--
Celie or Vauquier. My discoveries all fit in with the theory of
Celie's innocence. But there remain the footprints, for which I
found no explanation.
"You will remember I made you all promise silence as to the
finding of Mme. Dauvray's jewellery. For I thought, if they have
taken the girl away so that suspicion may fall on her and not on
Vauquier, they mean to dispose of her. But they may keep her so
long as they have a chance of finding out from her Mme. Dauvray's
hiding-place. It was a small chance but our only one. The moment
the discovery of the jewellery was published the girl's fate was
sealed, were my theory true.
"Then came our advertisement and Mme. Gobin's written testimony.
There was one small point of interest which I will take first: her
statement that Adele was the Christian name of the woman with the
red hair, that the old woman who was the servant in that house in
the suburb of Geneva called her Adele, just simply Adele. That
interested me, for Helene Vauquier had called her Adele too when
she was describing to us the unknown visitor. 'Adele' was what
Mme. Dauvray called her."
"Yes," said Ricardo. "Helene Vauquier made a slip there. She
should have given her a false name."
Hanaud nodded.
"It is the one slip she made in the whole of the business. Nor did
she recover herself very cleverly. For when the Commissaire
pounced upon the name, she at once modified her words. She only
thought now that the name was Adele, or something like it. But
when I went on to suggest that the name in any case would be a
false one, at once she went back upon her modifications. And now
she was sure that Adele was the name used. I remembered her
hesitation when I read Marthe Gobin's letter. They helped to
confirm me in my theory that she was in the plot; and they made me
very sure that it was an Adele for whom we had to look. So far
well. But other statements in the letter puzzled me. For instance,
'She ran lightly and quickly across the pavement into the house,
as though she were afraid to be seen.' Those were the words, and
the woman was obviously honest. What became of my theory then? The
girl was free to run, free to stoop and pick up the train of her
gown in her hand, free to shout for help in the open street if she
wanted help. No; that I could not explain until that afternoon,
when I saw Mlle. Celie's terror-stricken eyes fixed upon that
flask, as Lemerre poured a little out and burnt a hole in the
sack. Then I understood well enough. The fear of vitriol!" Hanaud
gave an uneasy shudder. "And it is enough to make any one afraid!
That I can tell you. No wonder she lay still as a mouse upon the
sofa in the bedroom. No wonder she ran quickly into the house.
Well, there you have the explanation. I had only my theory to work
upon even after Mme. Gobin's evidence. But as it happened it was
the right one. Meanwhile, of course, I made my inquiries into
Wethermill's circumstances. My good friends in England helped me.
They were precarious. He owed money in Aix, money at his hotel. We
knew from the motor-car that the man we were searching for had
returned to Aix. Things began to look black for Wethermill. Then
you gave me a little piece of information."