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"And who taught you that pretty game?"
"Mademoiselle ... my governess.... I saw her do it. She takes words out of newspapers and sticks them on...."
"And what does she do with them?"
"Makes telegrams and letters which she sends off."
Holmlock Shears returned to the schoolroom, singularly puzzled by this confidence and doing his utmost to extract from it the inferences of which it allowed.
There was a bundle of newspapers on the mantel-piece. He opened them and saw, in fact, that there were groups of words or lines missing, regularly and neatly cut out. But he had only to read the words that came before or after to ascertain that the missing words had been removed with the scissors at random, evidently by Henriette. It was possible that, in the pile of papers, there was one which mademoiselle had cut herself. But how was he to make sure?
Mechanically, Shears turned the pages of the lesson-books heaped up on the table and of some others lying on the shelves of a cupboard. And suddenly a cry of joy escaped him. In a corner of the cupboard, under a pile of old exercise-books, he had found a children's alb.u.m, a sort of picture alphabet, and, in one of the pages of this alb.u.m, he had seen a gap.
He examined the page. It gave the names of the days of the week: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and so on. The word "Sat.u.r.day" was missing. Now the Jewish Lamp was stolen on a Sat.u.r.day night.
Shears felt that little clutch at his heart which always told him, in the plainest manner possible, when he had hit upon the knotty point of a mystery. That grip of truth, that feeling of certainty never deceived him.
He hastened to turn over the pages of the alb.u.m, feverishly and confidently. A little further on came another surprise.
It was a page consisting of capital letters followed by a row of figures.
Nine of the letters and three of the figures had been carefully removed.
Shears wrote them down in his note-book, in the order which they would have occupied, and obtained the following result:
C D E H N O P R Z--237
"By Jove!" he muttered. "There's not much to be made out of that, at first sight."
Was it possible to rearrange these letters and, employing them all, to form one, two or three complete words?
Shears attempted to do so in vain.
One solution alone suggested itself, returned continually to the point of his pencil and, in the end, appeared to him the right one, because it agreed with the logic of the facts and also corresponded with the general circ.u.mstances.
Admitting that the page in the alb.u.m contained each of the letters of the alphabet once and once only, it was probable, it was certain that he had to do with incomplete words and that these words had been completed with letters taken from other pages. Given these conditions, and allowing for the possibility of a mistake, the puzzle stood thus:
R E P O N D . Z--C H--237
The first word was clear: "_Repondez_, reply." An E was missing, because the letter E, having been once used, was no longer available.
As for the last, unfinished word, it undoubtedly formed, with the number 237, the address which the sender gave to the receiver of the letter. He was advised to fix the day for Sat.u.r.day and asked to send a reply to C H 237.
Either C H 237 was the official number of a _poste restante_ or else the two letters C H formed part of an incomplete word. Shears turned over the leaves of the alb.u.m: nothing had been cut from any of the following pages. He must, therefore, until further orders, be content with the explanation hit upon.
"Isn't it fun?"
Henriette had returned.
He replied:
"Yes, great fun! Only, haven't you any other papers?... Or else some words ready cut out, for me to stick on?"
"Papers?... No.... And then mademoiselle wouldn't like it."
"Mademoiselle?"
"Yes, mademoiselle has scolded me already."
"Why?"
"Because I told you things ... and she says you must never tell things about people you are fond of."
"You were quite right to tell me."
Henriette seemed delighted with his approval, so much so that, from a tiny canvas bag pinned on to her frock, she took a few strips of stuff, three b.u.t.tons, two lumps of sugar and, lastly, a square piece of paper which she held out to Shears:
"There, I'll give it you all the same." It was the number of a cab, No.
8279.
"Where did you get this from?"
"It fell out of her purse."
"When?"
"On Sunday, at ma.s.s, when she was taking out some coppers for the collection."
"Capital! And now I will tell you how not to get scolded. Don't tell mademoiselle that you have seen me."
Shears went off in search of M. d'Imblevalle and asked him straight out about mademoiselle.
The baron gave a start:
"Alice Demun!... Would you think?... Oh, impossible!"
"How long has she been in your service?"
"Only twelve months, but I know no quieter person nor any in whom I place more confidence."
"How is it that I have not yet seen her?"