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They drove on and on, into the open country; through dimly-lit, leafy thoroughfares, through long stretches of market gardens, till they came on to the outskirts of the great city and still Sylvia remained obstinately silent. Paul de Virieu leant forward. "Speak to her," he said in an urgent whisper. "Take her hand and try to rouse her, Mr. Chester. I feel very anxious about her condition."
Though all the pot-plants and half-hardy shrubs were sunning themselves in the open-air, the orangery did not look bare, for every inch of the inside walls had been utilised for growing grapes and peaches. There was a fountain set in the centre of the stone floor, and near the fountain was a circular seat. "Let us sit down," said Paul de Virieu suddenly.
And when at last she went down into the dining-room, and Paul de Virieu came in, Sylvia suddenly realised, with a sense of curious embarrassment, what it was she had been waiting for and looking forward to. It was her meeting with the Comte de Virieu. "I hope my going out so early did not disturb you," he said, in his excellent English. "I saw you at your window." Sylvia shook her head, smiling.
But if Sylvia Bailey had no business to be at Lacville, he, Paul de Virieu, had no business to be flirting with her as he was doing for though Sylvia was honestly unaware of the fact, the Count was carrying on what he well knew to be a very agreeable flirtation with the lady he called in his own mind his "petite amie Anglaise," and very much he was enjoying the experience when his conscience allowed him to enjoy it.
Was it possible that this Comte de Virieu, this man of whom that nice Madame Wachner had spoken with such scorn as a confirmed gambler, was "making up" to Sylvia? It was a monstrous idea but Chester, being a solicitor, knew only too well that in the matter of marriage the most monstrous and disastrous things are not only always possible but sometimes probable.
"I felicitate you on your conquest, naughty Paul!" and he had felt angry, even disgusted, with the old lady's cynical compliment. She had added, meaningly, "Why not turn over a new leaf? Why not marry this pretty creature? But Sylvia was answering him. "Yes, the woman said that Anna would be very lucky." The Comte de Virieu thought for a moment, and then withdrew his eyes from his friend's face.
After all, there was no evidence, not what English law would recognise as evidence, against these people. Out in the darkness, with the two men, one on either side of her, Sylvia walked slowly to the gate. Between them they got her over it and into the victoria. Paul de Virieu pulled out the little back seat, but Chester, taking quick possession of it, motioned him to sit by Mrs. Bailey.
"I forbid you to touch her!" the Count muttered between his teeth, and Sylvia, withdrawing her half-outstretched hand, meekly obeyed him. Paul de Virieu beckoned to the oldest of the police officials present. "You will remember the disappearance from Lacville of a Polish lady? I have reason to believe these people murdered her.
I have an income, and choose to spend it in gambling. I might prefer to have a big house, or perhaps I should say a small house, for I am not a very rich woman. But no, I like play, and I am free to spend my money as I like. The Comte de Virieu is very differently situated! He is, so I've been told, a clever, cultivated man. He ought to be working doing something for his country's good.
Chester and Paul de Virieu walked quickly up the path. Suddenly a shaft of bright light pierced the moonlit darkness. The shutters of the dining-room of the Châlet des Muguets had been unbarred, and the window was thrown wide open.
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