"Not Mme. Dauvray! Who was it, then?" Hanaud asked sharply.
Servettaz glanced from one to another of the grave faces which
confronted him.
"It was Mlle. Celie," he said, "who told me."
"Oh!" said Hanaud, slowly. "It was Mlle. Celie. When did she tell
you?"
"On Monday morning, monsieur. I was cleaning the car. She came to
the garage with some flowers in her hand which she had been
cutting in the garden, and she said: 'I was right, Alphonse.
Madame has a kind heart. You can go to-morrow by the train which
leaves Aix at 1.52 and arrives at Chambery at nine minutes after
two.'"
Hanaud started.
"'I was right, Alphonse.' Were those her words? And 'Madame has a
kind heart.' Come, come, what is all this?" He lifted a warning
finger and said gravely, "Be very careful, Servettaz."
"Those were her words, monsieur."
"'I was right, Alphonse. Madame has a kind heart'?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Then Mlle. Celie had spoken to you before about this visit of
yours to Chambery," said Hanaud, with his eyes fixed steadily upon
the chauffeur's face. The distress upon Servettaz's face
increased. Suddenly Hanaud's voice rang sharply. "You hesitate.
Begin at the beginning. Speak the truth, Servettaz!"
"Monsieur, I am speaking the truth," said the chauffeur. "It is
true I hesitate ... I have heard this morning what people are
saying ... I do not know what to think. Mlle. Celie was always
kind and thoughtful for me ... But it is true"--and with a kind of
desperation he went on--"yes, it is true that it was Mlle. Celie
who first suggested to me that I should ask for a day to go to
Chambery."
"When did she suggest it?"
"On the Saturday."
To Mr. Ricardo the words were startling. He glanced with pity
towards Wethermill. Wethermill, however, had made up his mind for
good and all. He stood with a dogged look upon his face, his chin
thrust forward, his eyes upon the chauffeur. Besnard, the
Commissaire, had made up his mind, too. He merely shrugged his
shoulders. Hanaud stepped forward and laid his hand gently on the
chauffeur's arm.
"Come, my friend," he said, "let us hear exactly how this
happened!"
"Mlle. Celie," said Servettaz, with genuine compunction in his
voice, "came to the garage on Saturday morning and ordered the car
for the afternoon. She stayed and talked to me for a little while,
as she often did. She said that she had been told that my parents
lived at Chambery, and since I was so near I ought to ask for a
holiday. For it would not be kind if I did not go and see them."
"That was all?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Very well." And the detective resumed at once his brisk voice and
alert manner. He seemed to dismiss Servettaz's admission from his
mind. Ricardo had the impression of a man tying up an important
document which for the moment he has done with, and putting it
away ticketed in some pigeon-hole in his desk. "Let us see the
garage!"