Ricardo, indeed, knew them to be true. Had he not himself seen the
girl in her black velvet dress shut up in a cabinet, and a great
lady of the past dimly appear in the darkness? Moreover, Helene
Vauquier's jealousy was so natural and inevitable a thing. Her
confession of it corroborated all her story.
"Well, then," said Hanaud, "we come to last night. There was a
seance held in the salon last night."
"No, monsieur," said Vauquier, shaking her head; "there was no
seance last night."
"But already you have said--" interrupted the Commissaire; and
Hanaud held up his hand.
"Let her speak, my friend."
"Yes, monsieur shall hear," said Vauquier.
It appeared that at five o'clock in the afternoon Mme. Dauvray and
Mlle. Celie prepared to leave the house on foot. It was their
custom to walk down at this hour to the Villa des Fleurs, pass an
hour or so there, dine in a restaurant, and return to the Rooms to
spend the evening. On this occasion, however, Mme. Dauvray
informed Helene that they should be back early and bring with them
a friend who was interested in, but entirely sceptical of,
spiritualistic manifestations. "But we shall convince her tonight,
Celie, "she said confidently; and the two women then went out.
Shortly before eight Helene closed the shutters both of the
upstair and the downstair windows and of the glass doors into the
garden, and returned to the kitchen, which was at the back of the
house--that is, on the side facing the road. There had been a fall
of rain at seven which had lasted for the greater part of the
hour, and soon after she had shut the windows the rain fell again
in a heavy shower, and Helene, knowing that madame felt the chill,
lighted a small fire in the salon. The shower lasted until nearly
nine, when it ceased altogether and the night cleared up.
It was close upon half-past nine when the bell rang from the
salon. Vauquier was sure of the hour, for the charwoman called her
attention to the clock.
"I found Mme. Dauvray, Mlle Celie, and another woman in the
salon," continued Helene Vauquier.
"Madame had let them in with her latchkey."
"Ah, the other woman!" cried Besnard. "Had you seen her before?"
"No, monsieur."
"What was she like?"
"She was sallow, with black hair and bright eyes like beads. She
was short and about forty-five years old, though it is difficult
to judge of these things. I noticed her hands, for she was taking
her gloves off, and they seemed to me to be unusually muscular for
a woman."
"Ah!" cried Louis Besnard. "That is important."
"Mme. Dauvray was, as she always was before a seance, in a
feverish flutter. 'You will help Mlle. Celie to dress, Helene, and
be very quick,' she said; and with an extraordinary longing she
added, 'Perhaps we shall see her tonight.' Her, you understand,
was Mme. de Montespan. And she turned to the stranger and said,
"You will believe, Adele, after tonight."