Page:Braddon--Wyllard's weird.djvu/134

126 "And you are interested?"

"Deeply. I was never more intensely interested in any case that has come within my knowledge: yet as a lawyer I have become acquainted with many strange stories. Yes, I am more interested than I can say in the fate of that unhappy actress, in the character of her mysterious lover: and yet I doubt if this former crime has any bearing upon the murder of Léonie Lemarque."

"It would certainly be going somewhat far to suppose a link between the death of a girl travelling alone in Cornwall—a death which may after all have been accidental—and the murder of her aunt ten years before in the forest of Saint-Germain. However, it is only by the minutest scrutiny of Léonie's past life that you can arrive at the motive which took her to England, and discover whether she had an enemy in that country—that is to say, if she was lured across the Channel in order to be made away with by that enemy. A very wild and far-fetched supposition I think you will admit, Monsieur, and one which our talented friend Mr. Distin would not entertain for five minutes."

"Professional acumen like Mr. Distin's is apt to run in grooves—to be too intent upon following the practical and the possible, to shut out the romantic element, to strangle the imagination, and to forget that it is very often by following the apparently impossible that we arrive at the truth."

"I see you are an enthusiast, Monsieur."

"I have never tried to subjugate my imagination. As a lawyer I found ideality the most useful faculty of my brain. Now, I have been thinking about Léonie Lemarque's fate from every possible point of view, from the standpoint of imagination as well as from the standpoint of common sense; and it has occurred to me that if the murderer of Marie Prévol were living, he would be Léonie's natural enemy."

"Why so?"

"Because she was the only witness of his crime. She alone would have the power to identify him as the murderer."

"You forget that it is just that power which the poor girl lost during her illness. The fever deprived her of memory."

"That effect of the fever may not have been permanent. The agitation which she showed at the mention of her aunt's name—when Sister Gudule questioned her about the silk handkerchief given to her by Marie Prévol—would indicate that memory was not a blank. And again, if she had forgotten the person of the murderer, or even the fact of the murder, he would not know that, and would regard her existence as a source of danger to himself."

Félix Drubarde smiled the superior smile of experience reproving folly.