Ralph looked at him and was astounded to recognize the individual who had followed Miss Bakersfield and accosted the girl with the green eyes, the man of whom he had asked a light, in a word the pomaded lady-killer whom Miss Bakersfield had called Monsieur Marescal. Drawn up to his full height at the entry of the compartment in which Miss Bakersfield was lying, he barred the way of the intruders and waved them back towards the open doors. There he stood till the train ran into the station of Beaucourt and the station master entered the car. “Ah, there you are, station master,” he cried in a tone of relief. “Will you have the goodness to see to this business at once. Telephone to the nearest police station, send for a doctor and send word to the office of the Public Prosecutor at Romillaud. We are face to face with a crime.” “With three crimes—murders,” the conductor amended. “Two masked men have escaped, two men who assaulted me.” “Yes, some of the workmen repairing the line saw them climbing the embankment. There’s a little wood at the top of it; and they’re hunting through it and along the high road. If they catch any one we shall hear about it here,” said Marescal. He uttered the words sternly with an air of authority. Ralph was growing more and more astonished; then of a sudden his head ceased humming; and he recovered his usual clear-sighted coolness. The workmen, passengers, and station master trooped out; the car was left empty but for Marescal, the conductor, Ralph, and the dead. Ralph made to return to his seat. Marescal barred his way. “What do you mean, sir?” cried Ralph indignantly, certain now that Marescal did not recognize him. “I was in this car and I want to go back to it.” “No, sir,” replied Marescal. “Every place in which a crime has been committed belongs to justice, and no unauthorized person can enter it.” The conductor intervened. “This gentleman was one of the victims of the attack. They bound and robbed him.” “I’m sorry,” said Marescal. “But the orders are strict.” “What orders?” snapped Ralph. “Mine.” Ralph crossed his arms. “That’s all very well, but by what right do you give them? It’s all very well for you to lay down the law with an insolence that these other people stand. But I am not in the humor to submit to it myself.” The lady-killer held out his visiting card and chanted in pompous accents: “Rudolph Marescal, Commissary of the International Investigation Department, attached to the Ministry of the Interior.” He had the air of saying: “In the face of such qualifications there is nothing to do but to give way.” He added: “If I have taken charge of the matter it is by agreement with the station master and because my special qualifications authorize me to do so.”