Then Hanaud lit another cigarette.

Mr. Ricardo, on the other hand, could hardly continue to smoke for

excitement.

"I cannot understand your calmness," he exclaimed.

"No?" said Hanaud. "Yet it is so obvious. You are the amateur, I

am the professional--that is all."

He looked at his watch and rose to his feet.

"I must go" he said and as he turned towards the door a cry sprang

from Mr. Ricardo's lips "It is true. I am the amateur. Yet I have

knowledge, Monsieur Hanaud which the professional would do well to

obtain."

Hanaud turned a guarded face towards Ricardo. There was no longer

any raillery in his manner. He spoke slowly, coldly.

"Let me have it then!"

"I have driven in my motor-car from Geneva to Aix," Ricardo cried

excitedly. "A bridge crosses a ravine high up amongst the

mountains. At the bridge there is a Custom House. There--at the

Pont de la Caille--your car is stopped. It is searched. You must

sign your name in a book. And there is no way round. You would

find sure and certain proof whether or no Madame Dauvray's car

travelled last night to Geneva. Not so many travellers pass along

that road at night. You would find certain proof too of how many

people were in the car. For they search carefully at the Pont de

la Caille."

A dark flush overspread Hanaud's face. Ricardo was in the seventh

Heaven. He had at last contributed something to the history of

this crime. He had repaired an omission. He had supplied knowledge

to the omniscient. Wethermill looked up drearily like one who has

lost heart.

"Yes, you must not neglect that clue," he said.

Hanaud replied testily: "It is not a clue. M. Ricardo tells that he travelled from Geneva

into France and that his car was searched. Well, we know already

that the officers are particular at the Custom Houses of France.

But travelling from France into Switzerland is a very different

affair. In Switzerland, hardly a glance, hardly a word." That was

true. M. Ricardo crestfallen recognized the truth. But his spirits

rose again at once. "But the car came back from Geneva into

France!" he cried.

"Yes, but when the car came back, the man was alone in it," Hanaud

answered. "I have more important things to attend to. For instance

I must know whether by any chance they have caught our man at

Marseilles." He laid his hand on Wethermill's shoulder. "And you,

my friend, I should counsel you to get some sleep. We may need all

our strength tomorrow. I hope so." He was speaking very bravely.

"Yes, I hope so."

Wethermill nodded.

"I shall try," he said.

"That's better," said Hanaud cheerfully. "You will both stay here

this evening; for if I have news, I can then ring you up."




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