Matthieu?" He looked straight at Coquenil.

"Perfectly," smiled the latter.

"Well, it wasn't a curtain cord," continued the wood carver with great
relish of the joke, "it was the emergency signal, which, by the
regulations, must only be used in great danger, so the first thing we knew
the train drew up with a terrible jerk, and there was a great shouting and
opening of doors and rushing about of officials. And finally, ha, ha! they
discovered that the Brussels express had been stopped, ha, ha, ha! because
a bashful young fellow wanted to kiss his girl."

M. Paul marveled at the man's self-possession. Not a tone or a glance or a
muscle betrayed him, he was perfectly at ease, buoyantly satisfied, one
would say, with himself and all the world--in short, he suggested nothing
so little as a close-tracked assassin.

In vain Coquenil tried to decide whether Groener was really unconscious of
impending danger. Was he deceived by this Matthieu disguise? Or was it
possible, _could_ it be possible, that he was what he appeared to be, a
simple-minded wood carver free from any wickedness or duplicity? No, no, it
was marvelous acting, an extraordinary make-up, but this was his man, all
right. There was the long little finger, plainly visible, the identical
finger of his seventeenth-century cast. Yes, this was the enemy, the
murderer, delivered into his hands through some unaccountable fortune, and
now to be watched like precious prey, and presently to be taken and
delivered over to justice. It seemed too good to be true, too easy, yet
there was the man before him, and despite his habit of caution and his
knowledge that this was no ordinary adversary, the detective thrilled as
over a victory already won.

The wood carver went on to express delight at being back in Paris, where
his work would keep him three or four days. Business was brisk, thank
Heaven, with an extraordinary demand for old sideboards with carved panels
of the Louis XV period, which they turned out by the dozen, ha, ha, ha! in
the Brussels shop. He described with gusto and with evident inside
knowledge how they got the worm holes in these panels by shooting fine shot
into them and the old appearance by burying them in the ground. Then he
told how they distributed the finished sideboards among farmhouses in
various parts of Belgium and Holland and France, where they were left to be
"discovered," ha, ha, ha! by rich collectors glad to pay big prices to the
simple-mi