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have reflected. I was struck, from the beginning, by the fact that the whole circumstance was governed by one primary question: the question of time. When Charles d’Ernemont was still in possession of his wits, he wrote a date upon the three pictures. Later, in the gloom in which he was struggling, a faint glimmer of intelligence led him every year to the centre of the old garden; and the same faint glimmer led him away from it every year at the same moment, that is to say, at twenty-seven minutes past five. Something must have acted on the disordered machinery of his brain in this way. What was the superior force that controlled the poor madman’s movements? Obviously, the instinctive notion of time represented by the sundial in the farmer-general’s pictures. It was the annual revolution of the earth around the sun that brought Charles d’Ernemont back to the garden at a fixed date. And it was the earth’s daily revolution upon its own axis that took him from it at a fixed hour, that is to say, at the hour, most likely, when the sun, concealed by objects different from those of today, ceased to light the Passy garden. Now of all this the sundial was the symbol. And that is why I at once knew where to look.”

“But how did you settle the hour at which to begin looking?”

“Simply by the pictures. A man living at that time, such as Charles d’Ernemont, would have written either 26 Germinal, Year II, or else 15 April, 1794, but not 15 April, Year II. I was astounded that no one had thought of that.”

“Then the figure 2 stood for two o’clock?”

“Evidently. And what must have happened was this: the farmer-general began by turning his fortune into solid gold and silver money. Then, by way of additional precaution, with this gold and silver he bought eighteen wonderful diamonds. When he was surprised by the arrival of the patrol, he fled into his garden. Which was the best place to hide the diamonds? Chance caused his eyes to light upon the sundial. It was two o’clock. The shadow of the arrow was then falling along the crack in the marble. He obeyed this sign of the shadow, rammed his eighteen diamonds into the dust and calmly went back and surrendered to the soldiers.”

“But the shadow of the arrow coincides with the crack in the marble every day of the year and not only on the 15th of April.”

“You forget, my dear chap, that we are dealing with a lunatic and that he remembered only this date of the 15th of April.”

“Very well; but you, once you had solved the riddle, could easily have made your way into the enclosure and taken the diamonds.”

“Quite true; and I should not have hesitated, if I had had to do with people of another description. But I really felt sorry for those poor wretches. And then you know the sort of idiot that Lupin is. The idea of appearing suddenly as a benevolent genius and amazing his kind would be enough to make him commit any sort of folly.”

“Tah!” I cried. “The folly was not so great as all that. Six magnificent diamonds! How delighted the d’Ernemont heirs must have been to fulfil their part of the contract!”

Lupin looked at me and burst into uncontrollable laughter:

“So you haven’t heard? Oh, what a joke! The delight of the d’Ernemont heirs!⁠ ⁠… Why, my dear fellow, on the next day, that worthy Captain Jeanniot had so many mortal enemies! On the very next day, the two lean sisters and the fat gentleman organized an opposition. A contract? Not worth the paper it was written on, because, as could easily be proved, there was no such person as Captain Jeanniot. Where did that adventurer spring from? Just let him sue them and they’d soon show him what was what!”

“Louise d’Ernemont too?”

“No, Louise d’Ernemont protested against that piece of rascality. But what could she do against so many? Besides, now that she was rich, she got back her young man. I haven’t heard of her since.”

“So⁠ ⁠… ?”

“So, my dear fellow, I was caught in a trap, with not a leg to stand on, and I had to compromise and accept one modest diamond as my share, the smallest and the least handsome of the lot. That comes of doing one’s best to help people!”

And Lupin grumbled between his teeth:

“Oh, gratitude!⁠ ⁠… All humbug!⁠ ⁠… Where should we honest men be if we had not our conscience and the satisfaction of duty performed to reward us?”

IV The Infernal Trap

When the race was over, a crowd of people, streaming toward the exit from the grandstand, pushed against Nicolas Dugrival. He brought his hand smartly to the inside pocket of his jacket.

“What’s the matter?” asked his wife.

“I still feel nervous⁠ ⁠… with that money on me! I’m afraid of some nasty accident.”

She muttered:

“And I can’t understand you. How can you think of carrying such a sum about with you? Every farthing we possess! Lord knows, it cost us trouble enough to earn!”

“Pooh!” he said. “No one would guess that it is here, in my pocketbook.”

“Yes, yes,” she grumbled. “That young manservant whom we discharged last week knew all about it, didn’t he, Gabriel?”

“Yes, aunt,” said a youth standing beside her.

Nicolas Dugrival, his wife and his nephew Gabriel were well-known figures at the race-meetings, where the regular frequenters saw them almost every day: Dugrival, a big, fat, red-faced man, who looked as if he knew how to enjoy life; his wife, also built on heavy lines, with a coarse, vulgar face, and always dressed in a plum-coloured silk much the worse for wear; the nephew, quite young, slender, with pale features, dark eyes and fair and rather curly hair.

As a rule, the couple remained seated throughout the afternoon. It was Gabriel who betted for his uncle, watching the horses in the paddock, picking up tips to right and left among the

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