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"It is here!" said M. Floçon, as he turned the handle unceremoniously without knocking. "Enter." A man was seated at a small desk in the centre of a big bare room, who rose at once at the sight of M. Floçon, and bowed deferentially without speaking. "Baume," said the Chief, shortly, "I wish to leave this gentleman with you.
They met in the Bois de Boulogne at ten o' clock in the morning; the weapons were pistols; the distance forty paces. Bugeaud fired almost as soon as he turned, advancing only a few steps; his ball entered above Dulong's right eye, and at six o'clock that evening he was dead." "There was a splendid ball at the Tuileries that night, was there not?" asked Flocon.
"We might, indeed we ought to have more evidence, more definite evidence, perhaps?" The Judge was musing over the facts as he knew them. "I should like, before going further, to look at the car," he said, suddenly coming to a conclusion. M. Floçon readily agreed. "We will go together," he said, adding, "Madame will remain here, please, until we return. It may not be for long."
I quite expect to hear that the Countess also has gone, that would be the climax!" "It shall not happen. I will take the warrant and arrest her now, at once, myself," cried M. Floçon. "Well, that will be something, yet not much. Yes, she is only one, and not to my mind the most criminal.
The more radical party, perhaps equal in number, and no less tumultuous, composed also of those of the stoutest muscle and most determined will, who could elbow their way through the throng, gathered in the great hall of the Hôtel de Ville, proclaimed an antagonistic provisional government, more in accordance with their views. Their list consisted of Marrast, Flocon, Louis Blanc, and Albert.
You will never find him, M. Floçon, never." The detective hung his head in guilty admission of this reproach. "We may help you in both these difficulties, gentlemen," said Sir Charles, pleasantly. "My friend here, Colonel Papillon, can speak as to the man Quadling. He knew him well in Rome, a year or two ago."
The exterior of the car was encrusted with the mud and dust gathered in the journey, none of which appeared to have been disturbed. M. Floçon reëntered the carriage neither disappointed nor pleased; his mind was in an open state, ready to receive any impressions, and as yet only one that was at all clear and distinct was borne in on him.
"Madame Dantès is, I am told, as devoted to the good cause as her husband," remarked Flocon. "She is a second Madame Roland!" exclaimed Louis Blanc. "France will owe much to such women as she and her friend Madame Dudevant!"
"Oh, indeed? and when was that?" "Last night, at Amberieux, as I have already told that gentleman." She pointed to M. Floçon, who was obliged to nod his head. "Well, she has gone away somewhere. It does not much matter, still it is odd, and for your sake we should like to help you to find her, if you do wish to find her?" Another little trap which failed.
"As I passed his house this evening, at about eight o'clock," said Flocon, "a large multitude were in his courtyard shouting, 'Long live Odillon Barrot! A deputation of the people penetrated, I understand, even to his private apartment, where he was in consultation with Thiers and Dupin. Barrot then urged them to be moderate in their triumph and to retire.
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