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Updated: July 21, 2025
He had found among the papers of Hippolyte Fauville's old friend Langernault particulars relating to the Roussel family and to the discord that reigned in the Fauville household. Five persons, all told, were in his way: first, of course, Cosmo Mornington; next, in the order of their claims, Hippolyte Fauville, his son Edmond, his wife Marie, and his cousin Gaston Sauverand.
But there's not a second to lose. Follow me." He entered. A stifled oath escaped his lips. The room was empty. "What!" he stammered. "What does this mean? They're gone.... Florence " Certainly, unlikely though it seemed, he had hitherto supposed that Sauverand possessed a false key to the lock. But how could they both have escaped, in the midst of the detectives? He looked around him.
Fauville, the capture and escape of Gaston Sauverand, the murder of Chief Inspector Ancenis, and the discovery of a letter written by Hippolyte Fauville.
And perhaps it was better so, that society itself should punish the two criminals whom he was about to hand over to it. He shut the door, pushed the bolt, faced his two prisoners again and, taking a chair, said to Sauverand: "Let us talk."
I accuse him of supplying Hippolyte Fauville with the poison which killed successively Inspector Vérot, Edmond Fauville, and Hippolyte Fauville himself. I accuse him of arming and turning against me the hand of Gaston Sauverand, who, acting under his advice and his instructions, tried three times to take my life and ended by causing the death of my chauffeur.
"Impossible!" cried Don Luis, in a renewed tone of aggressive wrath. "Impossible! Those facts were a fortnight old. I cannot allow that you had not heard of them." "Through whom?" "Through the papers," exclaimed Don Luis. "And, more certainly still, through Mlle. Levasseur." "Through the papers?" said Sauverand. "I never used to read them. What! Is that incredible?
"Come, Chief, we'll put it right. And we'll pick up Sauverand at Paris instead of Chartres, that's all." "You infernal ass! The repairs will take an hour! And then she'll break down again. It's not petrol, it's filth they've foisted on you." The country stretched around them to endless distances, with no other lights than the stars that riddled the darkness of the sky.
Then why live and wait for a natural death which to them would mean the beginning of their happiness? And as Edmond had to die, why not save him a lingering illness and give him a death which would double the crime of Marie and Sauverand? "The end is coming. I had to break off: the pain was too much for me. Now to pull myself together.... How silent everything is!
Fauville and Gaston Sauverand, we are obliged to conclude that, as everything accuses them, this is due to a series of deliberate acts. Mme. Fauville was out on the night of the murder: a plot! She was unable to say how she spent her time while the murder was being committed: a plot!
"What are they?" asked Sauverand, who had lost none of his coolness.
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