But she learned nothing from him, for the man was new to the district and could give her no particulars. He did not even know the name of the owner.

They turned their horses’ heads towards La Marèze. Again and again Hortense recalled the squalid sight which had met their eyes. But Rénine, who was in a lively mood and full of attentions to his companion, seemed utterly indifferent to those questions.

“But, after all,” she exclaimed, impatiently, “we can’t leave the matter there! It calls for a solution.”

“As you say,” he replied, “a solution is called for. M. Rossigny has to know where he stands and you have to decide what to do about him.”

She shrugged her shoulders: “He’s of no importance for the moment. The thing today …”

“Is what?”

“Is to know what those two dead bodies are.”

“Still, Rossigny …”

“Rossigny can wait. But I can’t. You have shown me a mystery, which is now the only thing that matters. What do you intend to do?”

“To do?”

“Yes. There are two bodies … You’ll inform the police, I suppose.”

“Gracious goodness!” he exclaimed, laughing. “What for?”

“Well, there’s a riddle that has to be cleared up at all costs, a terrible tragedy.”

“We don’t need anyone to do that.”

“What! Do you mean to say that you understand it?”

“Almost as plainly as though I had read it in a book, told in full detail, with explanatory illustrations. It’s all so simple!”

She looked at him askance, wondering if he was making fun of her. But he seemed quite serious.

“Well?” she asked, quivering with curiosity.

The light was beginning to wane. They had trotted at a good pace, and the hunt was returning as they neared La Marèze.

“Well,” he said, “we shall get the rest of our information from people living round about … from your uncle, for instance, and you will see how logically all the facts fit in. When you hold the first link of a chain, you are bound, whether you like it or not, to reach the last. It’s the greatest fun in the world.”

Once in the house, they separated. On going to her room, Hortense found her luggage and a furious letter from Rossigny in which he bade her good-bye and announced his departure.

Then Rénine knocked at her door:

“Your uncle is in the library,” he said. “Will you go down with me? I’ve sent word that I am coming.”

She went with him. He added:

“One word more. This morning, when I thwarted your plans and begged you to trust me, I naturally undertook an obligation towards you, which I mean to fulfill without delay. I want to give you a positive proof of this.”

She laughed:

“The only obligation which you took upon yourself was to satisfy my curiosity.”

“It shall be satisfied,” he assured her, gravely, “and more fully than you can possibly imagine.”

M. d’Aigleroche was alone. He was smoking his pipe and drinking sherry. He offered a glass to Rénine, who refused.

“Well, Hortense!” he said, in a rather thick voice. “You know that it’s pretty dull here, except in these September days. You must make the most of them. Have you had a pleasant ride with Rénine?”

“That’s just what I wanted to talk about, my dear sir,” interrupted the prince.

“You must excuse me, but I have to go to the station in ten minutes, to meet a friend of my wife’s.”

“Oh, ten minutes will be ample!”

“Just the time to smoke a cigarette?”

“No longer.”

He took a cigarette from the case which M. d’Aigleroche handed to him, lit it and said:

“I must tell you that our ride happened to take us to an old domain which you are sure to know, the Domaine de Halingre.”

“Certainly I know it. But it has been closed, boarded up for twenty-five years or so.