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Updated: June 13, 2025
M. d'Aigleroche was alone. He was smoking his pipe and drinking sherry. He offered a glass to Renine, who refused. "Well, Hortense!" he said, in a rather thick voice. "You know that it's pretty dull here, except in these September days. You must make the most of them. Have you had a pleasant ride with Renine?" "That's just what I wanted to talk about, my dear sir," interrupted the prince.
Why, if there weren't any others, would that not be enough for you?" And Renine, flinging out his arm, pointed to the Comte d'Aigleroche, who, terrified by this evocation of the past, had sunk huddled into a chair and was hiding his head in his hands. Hortense did not attempt to argue with him. She had never liked her uncle, or rather her husband's uncle.
But a likely version, which at once occurs to the mind, is that your cousin's wife, Madame d'Aigleroche, was in the habit of meeting the other husband in the ivy-covered tower, which had a door opening outside the estate.
On the evening of that very day, the 5th of September at eight o'clock, M. d'Aigleroche, doubtless alleging as his reason that he was going in pursuit of the runaway couple, left his house after boarding up the entrance. He went away, leaving all the rooms as they were and removing only the firearms from their glass case.
Or were they both in love with each other and did M. d'Aigleroche plan with her to kill his first wife and the husband of his second wife? These are problems to which I do not know the answer. They have no interest for the moment; but the police, with all the means at their disposal, would have no great difficulty in elucidating them."
He accused them of having eloped together." Hortense gave a start. Suddenly, as though the last sentence were a complete and to her an absolutely unexpected revelation, she understood what Renine was trying to convey: "What do you mean?" she asked. "I mean that M. d'Aigleroche accused his wife and his friend of eloping together." "No, no!" she cried.
The guests were flocking in from every side, shaking hands with the Comte d'Aigleroche, one of those typical country squires, heavily and powerfully built, who lives only for hunting and shooting. He was standing before the fire, with a large glass of old brandy in his hand, drinking the health of each new arrival. Hortense kissed him absently: "What, uncle! You who are usually so sober!"
It was the opening day of the hunt that morning at the Chateau de la Mareze, where, every year, in the first week in September, the Comte d'Aigleroche, a mighty hunter before the Lord, and his countess were accustomed to invite a few personal friends and the neighbouring landowners.
"You must excuse me, but I have to go to the station in ten minutes, to meet a friend of my wife's." "Oh, ten minutes will be ample!" "Just the time to smoke a cigarette?" "No longer." He took a cigarette from the case which M. d'Aigleroche handed to him, lit it and said: "I must tell you that our ride happened to take us to an old domain which you are sure to know, the Domaine de Halingre."
And it was from there, also, that, after carefully taking all his measurements, and calculating all his distances, on a Sunday, the 5th of September, when the house was empty, he killed them with two shots." The truth was becoming apparent. The light of day was breaking. The count muttered: "Yes, that's what must have happened. I expect that my cousin d'Aigleroche...."
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