Page:Agatha Christie-The Murder on the Links.djvu/105

 “Vanished. Disappeared. The glass jar that contained it is empty!”

“What?” I cried. “Impossible. Why, only this morning I saw—” The words died on my tongue.

But the attention of the entire room was diverted to me.

“What is that you say?” cried the commissary. “This morning?”

“I saw it there this morning,” I said slowly. “About an hour and a half ago, to be accurate.”

“You went to the shed, then? How did you get the key?”

“I asked the sergent de ville for it.”

“And you went there? Why?”

I hesitated, but in the end I decided that the only thing to do was to make a clean breast of it.

“M. le juge,” I said. “I have committed a grave fault, for which I must crave your indulgence.”

“Eh bien! Proceed, monsieur.”

“The fact of the matter is,” I said, wishing myself anywhere else than where I was, “that I met a young lady, an acquaintance of mine. She displayed a great desire to see everything that was to be seen, and I—well, in short, I took the key to show her the body.”

“Ah, par exemple,” cried the magistrate indignantly. “But it is a grave fault you have committed there, Captain Hastings. It is altogether most irregular. You should not have permitted yourself this folly.”

“I know,” I said meekly. “Nothing that you can say could be too severe, M. le juge.”

“You did not invite this lady to come here?”

“Certainly not. I met her quite by accident. She is an English lady who happens to be staying in Merlinville, though I was not aware of that until my unexpected meeting with her.”

“Well, well,” said the magistrate, softening. “It was most irregular, but the lady is without doubt young and beautiful, n’est-ce pas? What it is to be young! O jeunesse, jeunesse!” And he sighed sentimentally.