“The heel—this shoe-heel that they picked up in the wood, stuck between two roots. How many more proofs do you want to make you believe in this second fact I’m drumming into your head: the fact that of the two murderers one was a woman?” said Marescal, impatiently. His clearsightedness irritated Ralph. He was careful, however, to let no vestige of irritation be seen, and muttered in the tone of one from whom a tribute is forced: “By Jove, you’re devilishly smart!” Then, more loudly, he added: “Is that all? Have you made any more discoveries?” “Goodness!” cried Marescal, laughing triumphantly. “Give me time to get my breath!” “Do you mean to go on working all night, then?” “At any rate I’m going on working till they bring in the two fugitives. And that won’t take long, if they follow my instructions,” said Marescal confidently. Ralph had followed Marescal’s dissertation with the simple air of admiration of a man who is not very clever himself and leaves to others the task of unraveling a tangle of which he understands very little himself. He shook his head and, yawning, said: “Enjoy yourself in your own way, Monsieur Commissary. For my part I don’t mind telling you that all this excitement has upset me a bit, and an hour or two’s sleep——” “Take it,” said Marescal readily. “Go to sleep in any of these compartments you fancy. I’ll see that no one disturbs you. And when I’ve finished, I’ll come and take a nap as well.” Ralph went into the next compartment, shut the door, drew the curtains, pushed up the shade over the lamp. “I’ve got you all right, old pomade-pot,” he said to himself. “You’re like the crow in the fable: a little flattery will always loosen your tongue. You’re all right to look at; but you talk too much. As for your jailing this unknown girl and her accomplice, I shall be jolly well surprised if you bring it off. It’s a job I shall have to take in hand myself.” Then he heard the sound of voices from the direction of the station. They grew louder. Then he heard Marescal, who was leaning out of a window of the corridor, cry out: “Who is it? Ah, excellent! It’s the police, isn’t it?” A voice replied: “Yes, Monsieur Commissary. The station master sent us to you.” “Good. Have you made any arrests, inspector?” said Marescal. “Only one, sir. One of the robbers they were hunting dropped on the turf by the high road, utterly done. We picked him up about a mile away. But the other managed to escape.” “That’s a pity. What about the doctor?” said Marescal. “He was having his horse harnessed as we came by his house. He had just had a night call; but he’ll be here in about forty minutes,” said the inspector. Marescal paused; then he asked: “Did you catch the smaller of the two robbers?” “Yes. A pale-faced lad, wearing a hat much too big for him. He’s crying and making promises and whining: “I’ll tell the truth, but only to the examining magistrate. Where is the magistrate?” said the inspector.