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Updated: June 15, 2025
Vinson, the Invernesses' new agent's wife?" "I do. Langholm took her into dinner the night we dined at Upthorpe, and she was in the offing yesterday when Mrs. Steel was talking to the judge." "Exactly! It appears that it was Mrs. Vinson who first suspected something, the very night you mention; and yesterday her suspicions were confirmed to her own satisfaction.
In a voice quivering with shame, Vinson begged Juve not to allow anyone to enter. "I should be so ashamed," he muttered, with hanging head and hunched shoulders. "We shall do our best to prevent it," Juve assured him. After an explanation with the station-master, the compartment was labelled "Reserved." The train started. Vinson was wide awake now, and dejected to the last degree.
"No, Commandant!" Dumoulin was silent a moment, choking with anger, his hand trembling slightly did the fellow mean to mock him?... He frowned. He did not like the manner of this fellow, with his bright, piercing eyes, his scornful looks. He repeated: "Are you Corporal Vinson?" "No, Commandant." Dumoulin was boiling with rage: he was about to explode.
"M. Vinson gives a graphic account of the agile way in which the diminutive male escapes from the ferocity of the female, by gliding about and playing hide and seek over her body and along her gigantic limbs: in such a pursuit it is evident that the chances of escape would be in favour of the smallest males, while the larger ones would fall early victims; thus gradually a diminutive race of males would be selected, until at last they would dwindle to the smallest possible size compatible with the exercise of their generative functions, in fact, probably to the size we now see them, i.e., so small as to be a sort of parasite upon the female, and either beneath her notice, or too agile and too small for her to catch without great difficulty."
The man who sends it is a sharp police spy never hesitates, never makes a blunder!... It seems evident that Vinson has given us the slip! He must have reached the coast at some point, and, in an unnoticed boat, has passed under our noses this very night!... Here's a go! The very deuce of a go!"
"But you do not seem to understand anything, Corporal Vinson!" he cried in an irritated tone. "Whatever I say seems to send you into a state of stupefaction!... I shall never do anything with you, you are hopeless!... Ah, here is Bonniéres! Once outside the town, I will give you some useful explanations."
The more enthusiastically convinced Bobinette was that the "great affair" would be successful, the more sceptical he grew. She committed herself to a statement of extreme importance. "Don't I tell you, old unbeliever that you are, that Corporal Vinson is to bring the plan of the piece in question?" "The plan!" objected Juve-Vagualame. "That is good, as far as it goes; but that is not sufficient!"
"I do not imagine anything, Colonel I state facts!... Nichoune is dead, murdered: there is not a shadow of a doubt about that.... Nichoune was the mistress of Corporal Vinson.... This Vinson was on the point of playing the traitor, if he had not already done so; he was also a friend of Captain Brocq, and Brocq died just when the document disappeared the document confided to him by our service ... so much for facts."
Vinson leaped backwards, just as the agent was putting his key in the lock, and rushed towards Fandor's study. He locked the door at the precise moment the agent entered the flat. "Halt!" cried he: Vinson's movements had been heard. The corporal's answer was to double-lock the door. "What you are doing there is childish!" cried the agent. "I have master-keys! Give yourself up!"
"At Verdun," continued Vinson, who had risen, and was walking to and fro, pressing his head between his hands, a prey to an indescribable anguish.... "At Verdun! That is to say at the frontier itself! That means I shall be in the thick of all that lot at their mercy!... Oh, the trick had been well thought out, carefully contrived!
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