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Through Nina, Lecoq had arranged a meeting between Bertomy and Madeline, and satisfied himself that the girl was whole-heartedly and devotedly attached to her uncle's cashier. Then why was she favouring the suit of the count? Lecoq at once made it his business to inquire into the count's past. He was the second son of an old and noble family.
It was the porter, who handed him a thick letter, and said: "This letter was left this morning for M. Bertomy; I was so flustered when he came that I forgot to hand it to him. It is a very odd-looking letter; is it not, monsieur?" It was indeed a most peculiar missive. The address was not written, but formed of printed letters, carefully cut from a book, and pasted on the envelope.
"Did not M. Bertomy say, my dear lady, to the other end of Paris? To a hotel, or furnished apartments." "But I don't know where to find any." Fanferlot seemed to be reflecting; but he had great difficulty in concealing his delight at a sudden idea that flashed upon him; his little black eyes fairly danced with joy. "I know of a hotel," he said at last, "but it might not suit you.
From this simple experiment Lecoq deduced that two people were present when the safe was robbed; one wanted to take the money, the other wanted to prevent it being taken. This was the basis of the case which he set out to draw up against some person or persons unknown. He argued, with his usual clear logic, that neither Fauvel nor Bertomy could have robbed the safe.
Prosper bowed his head, and did not answer. "Ah! it is thus, then," said M. Fauvel, unable to contain himself any longer. "And you dare . Then, between you and me, M. Prosper Bertomy, justice shall decide. God is my witness that I have done all I could to save you. You will have yourself to thank for what follows. I have sent for the commissary of police: he must be waiting in my study.
I haven't the money. If I had given you ten thousand francs last night, I should have been compelled to borrow them of M. Prosper Bertomy. And even if I had the money, I should still say 'Impossible. Every man has his system his theory, you know. Mine is, never to run after my money. With me, whatever I may lose, I regard it as finally lost; I think no more about it, and turn to something else.
You shall be saved, aunt: only trust in me." The Marquis of Clameran was agreeably surprised that evening by receiving a letter from Mme. Fauvel, saying that she consented to everything, but must have a little time to carry out the plan. Madeleine, she said, could not break off her engagement with M. Bertomy in a day.
He looked upon it as a good sign, and his mind felt a slight relief. M. Patrigent turned toward the clerk, and said: "We will begin now, Sigault; pay attention." "What is your name?" he then asked, looking at Prosper. "Auguste Prosper Bertomy." "How old are you?" "I shall be thirty the 5th of next May." "What is your profession?" "I am that is, I was cashier in M. Andre Fauvel's bank."
Upon Fanferlot's entrance, as he advanced respectfully, bowing till his backbone was a perfect curve, M. Lecoq laid down his pen, and said, looking sharply at him: "Ah, here you are, young man. Well, it seems that you haven't made much progress in the Bertomy case." "Why," murmured Fanferlot, "you know "
Ah, Master Bertomy, you shall pay dear for being loved by the woman whom I love!" For five minutes Clameran indulged in such a tirade of abuse against Prosper, mingled with rhapsodies of love for Madeleine, that Raoul thought him almost out of his mind. "Before crying victory," he said, "you had better consider the drawbacks and difficulties. Prosper might change the word to-morrow."
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