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He nodded. "Did you know him?" "Oh, yes, very well." Now it was Coquenil's turn to feel surprise, for he had asked the question almost aimlessly. "You knew Martinez very well?" he repeated, scarcely believing his ears. "I often saw him," she explained, "at the café where we went evenings." "Who were 'we'?" "Why, Papa Bonneton would take me, or my cousin, M. Groener, or M. Kittredge."
A moment later Papa Bonneton reappeared, scarcely believing that already he had earned his louis and insisting on telling madam various things about the bell that it was presented by Louis XIV, and weighed over seventeen tons; that eight men were required to ring it, two poised at each corner of the rocking framework; that the note it sounded was fa diese did madam understand that?
"M. Paul, upon my soul!" exclaimed the sacristan. "What are you doing here at this hour?" "It's a little er personal matter," coughed Coquenil discreetly, "partly about Caesar. Can we sit down somewhere?" Still wondering, Bonneton led the way to a small room adjoining the treasure chamber, where a dim lamp was burning; here he and his associates got alternate snatches of sleep during the night.
And, without waiting for permission, he lighted one of his Egyptians and inhaled long breaths of the fragrant smoke. "Not a word, Bonneton! I want to think." Then for full five minutes he sat silent. "I have it!" he exclaimed presently. "Tell me about this man François." "François?" answered the sacristan in surprise. "Why, he helps me with the night work here." "Where does he live?"
My wife won't let her tell 'em any more, and it's a good thing she won't." For a mild man he spoke with surprising vehemence. "Bonneton," continued the detective mysteriously, "I don't know whether it's from her dreams or in some other way, but that girl knows things that that she has no business to know."
How wise we are!" "And er you have made inquiries about me?" resumed Kittredge with a strangely anxious look. Mother Bonneton half closed her eyes and threw out her thick lips in an ugly leer. "I should say we have! And found out things well, just a few!" "What things?" "We have found out, my pretty sir, that you lived for months last year by gambling. I suppose you will deny it?"
Papa Bonneton nearly choked over his demi tasse as he listened to this plea, but the wood carver took it seriously. "I'll help you with pleasure," he said; "I'll take you around with me to several shops to-morrow." "To-morrow, not to-day?" asked Matthieu, apparently disappointed. "To-day," smiled Groener, "I enjoy myself. This afternoon I escort my pretty cousin to hear some music.
For all his brave apparel he was a small, mild-mannered person, with kindly brown eyes and a way of smiling sadly as if he had forgotten how to laugh. "Ah, Bonneton, my friend!" said Coquenil, and then, with a quizzical glance: "My decorative friend!" "Good evening, M. Paul," answered the other, while he patted the dog affectionately. "Shall I take Caesar?" "One moment; I have news for you."
Alice was in the midst of all this when, shortly before ten, Mother Bonneton approached, cringing at the side of a visitor, a lady of striking beauty whose dress and general air proclaimed a lavish purse. In a first glance Alice noticed her exquisite supple figure and her full red lips. Also a delicate fragrance of violets.
"Go down and ask Papa Bonneton to come here at once. Say it's important. Hurry!" With an understanding nod Valentine disappeared inside the tower and the quick clatter of her wooden shoes echoed up from below. "But what will you tell him?" gasped the lady. "I shall tell him you were concerned in that crime last night. I don't know what it was, I haven't read the papers, but he has."
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