"And what was actually happening when the shot was fired? Describe it to me, please," he demanded.
"I was standing just here"--and he crossed the room and stood upon the spot where he had been--"Mademoiselle was over there beside the window. I had my back to the window. She was about to tell me something--to answer a question I had put to her--when someone from outside shot her through the open glass door."
"And you did not see her assailant?"
"I saw nothing. The shot startled me, and, seeing her staggering, I rushed to her. In the meantime the assailant--whoever he was--disappeared!"
The brown-bearded man smiled dubiously. As he stood beneath the electric light Hugh saw doubt written largely upon his countenance. He instantly realized that Ogier disbelieved his story.
After all it was a very lame one. He would not fully admit the reason of his visit.
"But tell me, m'sieur," exclaimed the police officer. "It seems extraordinary that any person should creep along this veranda." And he walked out and looked about in the moonlight. "If the culprit wished to shoot Mademoiselle in secret, then he would surely not have done so in your presence. He might easily have shot her as she was on her way home. The road is lonely up here."
"I agree, monsieur," replied the Englishman. "The whole affair is, to me, a complete mystery. I saw nobody. But it was plain to me that when I called Mademoiselle was seated out upon the veranda. Look at her chair--and the cushions! It was very hot and close in the Rooms to-night, and probably she was enjoying the moonlight before retiring to bed."
"Quite possibly," he agreed. "But that does not alter the fact that the assassin ran considerable risk in coming along the veranda in the full moonlight and firing through the open door. Are you quite certain that Mademoiselle's assailant was outside--and not inside?" he asked, with a queer expression upon his aquiline face.
Hugh saw that he was hinting at his suspicion that he himself had shot her!
"Quite certain," he assured him. "Why do you ask?"
"I have my own reasons," replied the police officer with a hard laugh. "Now, tell me what do you know about Mademoiselle Ferad?"
"Practically nothing."
"Then why did you call upon her?"
"I have told you. I desired some information, and she was about to give it to me when the weapon was fired by an unknown hand."
"Unknown--eh?"
"Yes. Unknown to me. It might be known to Mademoiselle."
"And what was this information you so urgently desired?"
"Some important information. I travelled from London to Monte Carlo in order to obtain it."