"Strange!" muttered the provost. "This modifies considerably the position of the prisoners. But how do you explain the murderer's being in the cellar?"
And I related in a few words the events of the night before.
"That will do," said he, and then, turning to the chief of police, continued:
"I must confess, Madoc, that these fiddlers' story has seemed to me by no means conclusive of their having had anything to do with the murders. Besides, their papers establish, for several of them, an _alibi_ very hard to disprove.--Still, young man, though the account you give us has the appearance of being true, you will remain in our power until it is verified.--Madoc, do not lose sight of him, and take your measures accordingly."
With this he went down-stairs, collected his papers, and ordered the prisoners to be taken back to jail. Then, casting a look of contempt at the corpulent landlady, he took his departure, followed by his secretary.
"Madame," said Madoc, who remained with two of his men, "you will please preserve the most profound silence as to what has taken place. Also, prepare for this brave lad here the same room he occupied night before last."
His tone admitted of no reply, and Mme. Grédel promised by all that was sacred to do whatever they wished, if they would only save her from the brigands.
"Give yourself no uneasiness about the brigands," replied Madoc. "We will stay here all day and all night to protect you. Go quietly about your affairs, and begin by giving us breakfast.--Young man, will you do me the honour to breakfast with me?"
My situation did not permit me to decline this offer. I accepted.
We were soon seated in front of a ham and a bottle of Rhine wine. The chief of police, in spite of his leaden face--his keen eye and great nose like the beak of an eagle--was a jolly enough fellow after a few glasses of wine. He tried to seize Annette by the waist as she passed. He told funny stories, at which the others shouted with laughter. I, however, remained silent, depressed.
"Come, young man," said Madoc, with a laugh, "try to forget the death of your estimable grandmother. We are all mortal. Take a good drink, and chase away all these gloomy thoughts."
So the time slipped away, amid clouds of tobacco-smoke, the jingling of glasses, and clinking of cans. We sat apart during the day in one corner of the saloon. Guests came to drink as usual, but they paid no attention to us. At nine o'clock, however, after the watchman had gone his round, Madoc rose.