She accepted the money, and left the
house. On her way back to England she appears to have stopped at Metz. You
will understand what sort of woman she is when I tell you that she was
seen the other day in a tavern, with your handsome groom, Joseph
Rigobert."
While my informant was relating these circumstances, my memory was at
work. I recalled what Francis Raven had vaguely told us of his wife's
experience in former days as governess in a German family. A suspicion of
the truth suddenly flashed across my mind. "What was the woman's name?" I
asked.
Mr. Beldheimer's son answered: "Alicia Warlock."
I had but one idea when I heard that reply--to get back to my house
without a moment's needless delay. It was then ten o'clock at night--the
last train to Metz had left long since. I arranged with my young
friend--after duly informing him of the circumstances--that I should go by
the first train in the morning, instead of staying to breakfast with the
other guests who slept in the house.
At intervals during the night I wondered uneasily how things were going on
at Maison Rouge. Again and again the same question occurred to me, on my
journey home in the early morning--the morning of the first of March. As
the event proved, but one person in my house knew what really happened at
the stables on Francis Raven's birthday.
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