The Woman of Mystery

In his study, situated in the Rue Saint-Dominique, the Minister of War was walking to and fro. In furious fashion he twisted his moustache, which seemed even redder than usual, as he nervously fingered his eyeglass, in a manner which promised anything but a cordial welcome to any who entered his presence. Doubtless, his officers were well acquainted with the reasons of his ill-humour, for a profound silence reigned all around, and the great man’s solitude was undisturbed save by the querulous twitterings of the birds in the garden. A minute later, he seemed to lose all patience, and, marching to the mantelpiece, he pressed an electric bell. An usher, with anxious mien, at once approached.


“Has Colonel Vallenot returned?” exclaimed the Minister, in fierce tones.


The servant shrunk away, as though he would have liked the earth to open and swallow him; then he stammered, faintly—


“I do not think so, sir—I will ask—”


The General became purple with rage. An oath burstforth from his lips like a bombshell, then a second, the third was useless. The door was again closed, the servant had vanished.


“What can Vallenot be doing all the time he has been gone?” muttered the Minister, as he resumed his pacing about the room. “Ah! This is the way I am served!”


Before he could finish, the usher had opened the door, and announced—


“Colonel Vallenot.”


A man of fifty years of age, tall and thin, with blue eyes and light moustache, marched briskly into the room, and, after saluting his superior in friendly wise, said—


“You seem to have lost all patience, General. I found an officer waiting for me at the very door of the War Office. The fact is, this has been anything but a small matter. After all, I have done everything possible—”


“Indeed!” interrupted the Minister, impatiently. “You have just come from Vanves?”


“Yes, General.”


“Alone?”


“No; I took with me one of our cleverest detectives. You had not given me this authorization, but I took upon myself the responsibility.”


“You have done quite right. But are you sure he is trustworthy?”


“Absolutely. He is a former sub-officer. Besides, I did not reveal to him the real object of my researches; he knows nothing important, and imagines he has simply been my auxiliary in an inquiry into the causes of a catastrophe hitherto ill-explained. We have nothing to fear in this direction.”


“Well, what has been the result of your researches?”


“If you will allow me, General, we will divide the inquiry into two parts, one consisting of moral circumstances, the other of material facts. The affair is more complicated than you at first thought, and when I have finished, your embarrassment, instead of having lessened, will probably have increased.”


“Impossible!”


He sat down before the desk, leaned over on his elbows, and, motioning to the Colonel to take a seat in an armchair by his side, said—


“Now, tell me everything.”


“The house tenanted by General de Trémont is situated above the village of Vanves, near the fort. It was the night-watch which gave the alarm, and the garrison which organized first aid when the fire broke out. Nothing worth mentioning remains of the building. The explosion of the combustible matter contained in the laboratory has disorganized the very foundations, and the effect has been formidable. Stones hurled into the air have been found more than a mile distant, and the surrounding gardens belonging to the peasants are covered with débris. Had there been houses in the neighbourhood, the loss to property would have been enormous—”