"
Mademoiselle Marguerite sprang up, exclaiming: "What a happy
idea!"
But without seeming to notice the girl's surprise, he added:
"Where are the remnants of this letter which you and the count
picked up in the garden?"
"M. de Chalusse placed them in his pocket."
"They must be found. Tell the count's valet to look for them."
The girl rang; but M. Casimir, who was supposed to be engaged in
making preparations for the funeral, was not in the house.
However, another servant and Madame Leon offered their services,
and certainly displayed the most laudable zeal, but their search
was fruitless; the fragments of the letter could not be found.
"How unfortunate!" muttered the magistrate, as he watched them
turn the pockets of the count's clothes inside out. "What a
fatality! That letter would probably have solved the mystery."
Compelled to submit to this disappointment, he returned to the
study; but he was evidently discouraged. Although he did not
consider the mystery insoluble, far from it, he realized that time
and research would be required to arrive at a solution, and that
the affair was quite beyond his province. One hope alone
remained.
By carefully studying the last words which M. de Chalusse had
written and spoken he might arrive at the intention which had
dictated them. Experience had wonderfully sharpened his
penetration, and perhaps he might discover a hidden meaning which
would throw light upon all this doubt and uncertainty.
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