By force of will, M.Courtois had recovered his self-possession.
"Before going to view the bodies," said he, "I will send word to the procureur of Corbeil.In an hour, we will have a judge of instruction, who will finish our painful task."A gendarme was instructed to harness the count's buggy, and to hasten to the procureur.Then the mayor and the justice, followed by the brigadier, the valet de chambre, and the two Bertauds, took their way toward the river.
The park of Valfeuillu was very wide from right to left.From the house to the Seine it was almost two hundred steps.Before the house was a grassy lawn, interspersed with flower-beds.Two paths led across the lawn to the river-bank.
But the murderers had not followed the paths.Making a short cut, they had gone straight across the lawn.Their traces were perfectly visible.The grass was trampled and stamped down as if a heavy load had been dragged over it.In the midst of the lawn they perceived something red; M.Plantat went and picked it up.It was a slipper, which the valet de chambre recognized as the count's.Farther on, they found a white silk handkerchief, which the valet declared he had often seen around the count's neck.This handkerchief was stained with blood.
At last they arrived at the river-bank, under the willows from which Philippe bad intended to cut off a branch; there they saw the body.The sand at this place was much indented by feet seeking a firm support.Everything indicated that here had been the supreme struggle.
M.Courtois understood all the importance of these traces.
"Let no one advance," said he, and, followed by the justice of the peace, he approached the corpse.Although the face could not be distinguished, both recognized the countess.Both had seen her in this gray robe, adorned with blue trimmings.
Now, how came she there?
The mayor thought that having succeeded in escaping from the hands of the murderers, she had fled wildly.They had pursued her, had caught up with her there, and she had fallen to rise no more.This version explained the traces of the struggle.It must have been the count's body that they had dragged across the lawn.
M.Courtois talked excitedly, trying to impose his ideas on the justice.But M.Plantat hardly listened; you might have thought him a hundred leagues from Valfeuillu; he only responded by monosyllables - yes, no, perhaps.And the worthy mayor gave himself great pains; he went and came, measured steps, minutely scrutinized the ground.
There was not at this place more than a foot of water.A mud-hank, upon which grew some clumps of flags and some water-lilies, descended by a gentle decline from the bank to the middle of the river.The water was very clear, and there was no current; the slippery and slimy mire could be distinctly seen.
M.Courtois had gone thus far in his investigations, when he was struck by a sudden idea.
"Bertaud," said he, "come here."
The old poacher obeyed.
"You say that you saw the body from your boat?""Yes, Monsieur Mayor."
"Where is your boat?"
"There, hauled up to that field."
"Well, lead us to it."
It was clear to all that this order had a great effect upon the man.
He trembled and turned pale under his rough skin, tanned as it was by sun and storM.He was even seen to cast a menacing look toward his son.
"Let us go," said he at last.
They were returning to the house when the valet proposed to pass over the ditch."That will be the quickest way," said he, "I will go for a ladder which we will put across."He went off, and quickly reappeared with his improvised foot-bridge.
But at the moment he was adjusting it, the mayor cried out to him:
