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Updated: June 8, 2025
The news of Count Courteau's death traveled fast. 'Poleon Doret was not long in hearing of it, and of course he went at once in search of Rouletta. By the time he found her the girl's momentary panic had been succeeded by a quite unnatural self-possession; her perturbation had changed to an intense but governable agitation, and her mind was working with a clarity and a rapidity more than normal.
No one at the Barracks appeared to take much stock in Courteau's charge, and even Colonel Cavendish, the commandant, took the trouble to send for him early the next morning and to ask for the whole story in detail. When Pierce had given it the officer nodded. "It looks very much like a spite case. I couldn't imagine your doing such a thing, my boy." "It is a spite case, nothing else."
Perdition! I'll follow this through, never fear." "How did you get a thousand dollars, Henri?" the wife inquired, curiously. Courteau's gaze shifted. "What difference? I won it on a turn at the North Star; it was given to me; I found it. Anyhow, I had it. It was a good night for me; yes, a very good night. I had my revenge and I showed my friends that I'm a man to be reckoned with."
She saw Pierce and Josephine turn away hand in hand, their heads close together he had not even glanced in her direction; then Cavendish was speaking to her directly. At first she did not understand him, but finally made out that he was telling her that everything had been cleared up, including even the mystery of Count Courteau's gold-sack.
But Courteau's indignation grew, and in a burst of excitement he disclaimed the guilt implied in Pierce's words. "So! You plead innocence! You imply that I robbed myself, eh? Well, how did I place the gold yonder? I ask you? Am I a magician?" He waved his arms wildly, then in a tone of malevolence he cried: "This is not the first time you have been accused of theft.
Although Courteau's brain was fogged, he experienced a growing surprise at the self-possession with which his wife had taken this blow which he had aimed as much at her as at Pierce Phillips; he studied her intently, a mingling of suspicion, of anger, and of admiration in his uncertain gaze.
Unable finally to smother the evidence of his steadily growing fright, Frank uttered a half-audible moan. Joe in the next bunk put it down as a new and threatening phenomenon. What sort of thing was it that sighed and moaned thus? As evidence of the direction Joe's mind was taking, he wondered if these sounds could be the complaint of Courteau's unshriven spirit.
Pierce's friends were indeed uniformly indignant, and without exception they maintained their faith in his innocence; most of them, in fact, actually applied themselves to the task of clearing him of Courteau's charge. But of the latter the one who applied herself the most thoughtfully, the most seriously, was the Countess Courteau.
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