There was an appreciable pause before Renauld replied. Then he said: “Yes.” “And afterwards?” “I found I had missed the last train. I walked to St. Beauvais where I knocked up a garage and got a car to take me back to Cherbourg.” “St. Beauvais? That is fifteen kilometres. A long walk, M. Renauld.” “I—I felt like walking.” Poirot bowed his head as a sign that he accepted the explanation. Jack Renauld took up his hat and cane and departed. In a trice Poirot jumped to his feet. “Quick, Hastings. We will go after him.” Keeping a discreet distance behind our quarry, we followed him through the streets of Merlinville. But when Poirot saw that he took the turning to the station, he checked himself. “All is well. He has taken the bait. He will go to Abbalac, and will inquire for the mythical valise left by the mythical foreigners. Yes, _mon ami___, all that was a little invention of my own.” “You wanted him out of the way!” I exclaimed. “Your penetration is amazing, Hastings! Now, if you please, we will go up to the Villa Geneviève.” 18 Giraud Acts “By the way, Poirot,” I said, as we walked along the hot white road, “I’ve got a bone to pick with you. I dare say you meant well, but really it was no business of yours to go mouching round to the Hôtel du Phare without letting me know.” Poirot shot a quick sidelong glance at me. “And how did you know I had been there?” he inquired. Much to my annoyance I felt the colour rising in my cheeks. “I happened to look in in passing,” I explained with as much dignity as I could muster. I rather feared Poirot’s banter, but to my relief, and somewhat to my surprise, he only shook his head with a rather unusual gravity. “If I have offended your susceptibilities in any way, I demand pardon of you. You will understand better soon. But, believe me, I have striven to concentrate all my energies on the case.” “Oh, it’s all right,” I said, mollified by the apology. “I know it’s only that you have my interests at heart. But I can take care of myself all right.” Poirot seemed to be about to say something further, but checked himself. Arrived at the Villa, Poirot led the way up to the shed where the second body had been discovered. He did not, however, go in, but paused by the bench which I have mentioned before as being set some few yards away from it. After contemplating it for a moment or two, he paced carefully from it to the hedge which marked the boundary between the Villa Geneviève and the Villa Marguerite. Then he paced back again, nodding his head as he did so. Returning again to the hedge, he parted the bushes with his hands. “With good fortune,” he remarked to me over his shoulder, “Mademoiselle Marthe may find herself in the garden. I desire to speak to her and would prefer not to call formally at the Villa Marguerite. Ah, all is well, there she is. Pst, mademoiselle! Pst! _Un moment, s’il vous plaît.___”