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-bank, 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: "Stop!" The imprints left by the Bertauds on both sides of the ditch had just caught his eye. "What is this?" said he; "evidently someone has crossed here, and not long ago; for the traces of the steps are quite fresh." After an examination of some minutes he ordered that the ladder should be placed farther off. When they had reached the boat, he said to Jean, "Is this the boat with which you went to take up your nets this morning?" "Yes." "Then," resumed M. Courtois, "what implements did you use? your cast net is perfectly dry; this boat-hook and these oars have not been wet for twenty-four hours." The distress of the father and son became more and more evident. "Do you persist in what you say, Bertaud?" said the mayor. "Certainly." "And you, Philippe?" "Monsieur," stammered the young man, "we have told the truth."