"No, he spoke of this evening—of to-night"
Hippolyte Fauville started.
"This evening! Then the time has come!… But no, it's impossible, they can't do anything to me yet.… They are not ready"
"Inspector Vérot declared, however, that the double murder would be committed to-night."
"No, Monsieur le Préfet, he was wrong there.… I know all about it.… To-morrow evening at the earliest … and we will catch them in a trap.… Oh, the scoundrels!"
Don Luis went up to him and asked:
"Your mother's name was Ermeline Roussel, was it not?"
"Yes, Ermeline Roussel. She is dead now."
"And she was from Saint-Etienne?"
"Yes. But why these questions?"
"Monsieur le Préfet will tell you to-morrow. One word more." He opened the cardboard box left by Inspector Vérot. "Does this cake of chocolate mean anything to you? These marks?"
"Oh, how awful!" said the civil engineer, in a hoarse tone. "Where did the inspector find it?"
He dropped into his chair again, but only for a moment; then, drawing himself up, he hurried toward the door with a jerky step.
"I'm going, Monsieur le Préfet, I'm going. To-morrow morning I'll show you.… I shall have all the proofs.… And the police will protect me.… I am ill, I know, but I want to live! I have the right to live … and my son, too.… And we will live.… Oh, the scoundrels!"
