"What, a letter from Mademoiselle Laurence? Isn't she here, then?"
"No, sir: she went away a week ago, to pass a month with one of her
aunts."
"And how is madame?"
"Better, sir; only she cries piteously."
The unfortunate mayor had now somewhat recovered his presence of
mind. He seized Baptiste by the arm.
"Come along," cried he, "come along!"
They hastened off.
"Poor man!" said the judge of instruction. "Perhaps his daughter
is dead."
M. Plantat shook his head.
"If it were only that!" muttered he. He added, turning to M.
Domini:
"Do you recall the allusions of Bertaud, monsieur?"
VII
The judge of instruction, the doctor, and M. Plantat exchanged a
significant look. What misfortune had befallen M. Courtois, this
worthy, and despite his faults, excellent person? Decidedly, this
was an ill-omened day!
"If we are to speak of Bertaud's allusions," said M. Lecoq, "I have
heard two very curious stories, though I have been here but a few
hours. It seems that this Mademoiselle Laurence--"
M. Plantat abruptly interrupted the detective.
"Calumnies! odious calumnies! The lower classes, to annoy the rich,
do not hesitate to say all sorts of things against them.
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