"
The other smiled, opened the door, and called:
"Francois!"
The valet hastened to obey the call. His face was suffused with
tears; he actually bewailed the loss of his master.
"Hear what I've got to say, my lad," said M. Lecoq, with true
detective-like familiarity. "And be sure and answer me exactly,
frankly, and briefly."
"I will, sir."
"Was it customary here at the chateau, to bring up the wine before
it was wanted?"
"No, sir; before each meal, I myself went down to the cellar for it."
"Then no full bottles were ever kept in the dining-room?"
"Never."
"But some of the wine might sometimes remain in draught?"
"No; the count permitted me to carry the dessert wine to the
servants' table."
"And where were the empty bottles put?"
"I put them in this corner cupboard, and when they amounted to a
certain number, I carried them down cellar."
"When did you last do so?"
"Oh"--Francois reflected--"at least five or six days ago."
"Good. Now, what liqueurs did the count drink?"
"The count scarcely ever drank liqueurs. If, by chance, he took a
notion to have a small glass of eau-de-vie, he got it from the
liqueur closet, there, over the stove.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120