"I am positively sure of it, pos-i-tive-ly. A towel on which I have
found one of those marks which a razor leaves when it is wiped--and one
only--has put me on the track of this fact. I looked about, and found a
box of razors, one of which had recently been used, for it was still
moist; and I have carefully preserved both the towel and the box. And if
these proofs are not enough, I will send to Paris for two of my men, who
will find, somewhere in the house or the garden, both the count's beard
and the cloth with which he wiped his razor. As to the fact which
surprises you, Doctor, it seems to me very natural; more, it is the
necessary result of the plan he adopted. Monsieur de Tremorel has always
worn his full beard: he cuts it off, and his appearance is so entirely
altered, that if he met anyone in his flight, he would not be
recognized."
The doctor was apparently convinced, for he cried:
"It's clear--it's evident,"
"Once thus disguised, the count hastens to carry out the rest of his
plan, to arrange everything to throw the law off the scent, and to make
it appear that he, as well as his wife, has been murdered. He hunts up
Guespin's vest, tears it out at the pocket, and puts a piece of it in
the countess's hand. Then taking the body in his arms, crosswise, he
goes downstairs. The wounds bleed frightfully--hence the numerous stains
discovered all along his path. Reaching the foot of the staircase he is
obliged to put the countess down, in order to open the garden-door. This
explains the large stain in the vestibule. The count, having opened the
door, returns for the body and carries it in his arms as far as the edge
of the lawn; there he stops carrying it, and drags it by the shoulders,
walking backward, trying thus to create the impression that his own body
has been dragged across there and thrown into the Seine. But the wretch
forgot two things which betray him to us. He did not reflect that the
countess's skirts, in being dragged along the grass, pressing it down
and breaking it for a considerable space, spoiled his trick. Nor did he
think that her elegant and well-curved feet, encased in small
high-heeled boots, would mould themselves in the damp earth of the lawn,
and thus leave against him a proof clearer than the day."
M. Plantat rose abruptly.
"Ah," said he, "you said nothing of this before."
"Nor of several other things, either. But I was before ignorant of some
facts which I now know; and as I had reason to suppose that you were
better informed than I, I was not sorry to avenge myself for a caution
which seemed to me mysterious."
"Well, you are avenged," remarked the doctor, smiling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account