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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Count's Millions"

Don't trouble us."
But M. Fortunat was not the man to be dismayed by such a trifle.
"She was taken to the railway station, no doubt," he insisted.
"Really, I know nothing about it."
"You told me just now that she had a large valise, so she could
not have left your hotel on foot. She must have asked for a
vehicle. Who was sent to fetch it? One of your boys? If I could
find the driver I should, perhaps, be able to obtain some valuable
information from him."
The husband and wife exchanged a whole volume of suspicions in a
single glance. M. Isidore Fortunat's appearance was incontestably
respectable, but they were well aware that those strange men
styled detectives are perfectly conversant with the art of
dressing to perfection. So the hotelkeeper quickly decided on his
course. "Your idea is an excellent one," he said to M. Fortunat.
"This lady must certainly have taken a vehicle on leaving; and
what is more, it must have been a vehicle belonging to the hotel.
If you will follow me, we will make some inquiries on the
subject."
And rising with a willingness that augured well for their success,
he led the agent into the courtyard, where five or six vehicles
were stationed, while the drivers lounged on a bench, chatting and
smoking their pipes "Which of you was employed by a lady yesterday
evening at about eight o'clock?"
"What sort of a person was she?"
"She was a handsome woman, between thirty and forty years' old,
very fair, rather stout, and dressed in black.


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