"This is a very sad event," said he, in a tone which he forced himself to make perfectly disinterested; "but after all, how does it concern us? We must, however, hurry and ascertain whether it is true. I have sent for the brigadier, and he will join us." "Let us go," said M. Courtois; "I have my scarf in my pocket." They hastened off. Philippe and his father went first, the young man eager and impatient, the old one sombre and thoughtful. The mayor, at each step, made some exclamation. "I can't understand it," muttered he; "a murder in my commune! a commune where, in the memory of men, no crime has been committed!" And he directed a suspicious glance toward the two Bertauds. The road which led toward the chateau of M. de Tremorel was an unpleasant one, shut in by walls a dozen feet high. On one side is the park of the Marchioness de Lanascol; on the other the spacious garden of Saint Jouan. The going and coming had taken time; it was nearly eight o'clock when the mayor, the justice, and their guides stopped before the gate of M. de Tremorel. The mayor rang. The bell was very large; only a small gravelled court of five or six yards separated the gate from the house; nevertheless no one appeared. The mayor rang more vigorously, then with all his strength; but in vain. Before the gate of Mme. de Lanascol's chateau, nearly opposite, a groom was standing, occupied in cleaning and polishing a bridle-bit. "It's of no use to ring, gentlemen," said this man; "there's nobody in the chateau." "How! nobody?" asked the mayor, surprised. "I mean," said the groom, "that there is no one there but the master and mistress. The servants all went away last evening by the 8.40 train to Paris, to the wedding of the old cook, Madame Denis. They ought to return this morning by the first train. I was invited myself--" "Great God!" interrupted M. Courtois, "then the count and countess remained alone last night?" "Entirely alone, Monsieur Mayor." "It is horrible!" M. Plantat seemed to grow impatient during this dialogue. "Come," said he, "we cannot stay forever at the gate. The gendarmes do not come; let us send for the locksmith." Philippe was about to hasten off, when, at the end of the road, singing and laughing were heard. Five persons, three women and two men, soon appeared. "Ah, there are the people of the chateau," cried the groom, whom this morning visit seemed to annoy, "they ought to have a key." The domestics, seeing the group about the gate, became silent and hastened their steps. One of them began to run ahead of the others; it was the count's valet de chambre. "These gentlemen perhaps wish to speak to Monsieur the Count?" asked he, having bowed to M. Plantat. "We have rung five times, as hard as we could," said the mayor. "It is surprising," said the valet de chambre, "the count sleeps very lightly. Perhaps he has gone out."