The fragment of a letter lay under a chair. It was a part of that
which La Corriveau had torn up and missed to gather up again with
the rest. Cadet picked it up and thrust it into his pocket.
The blood streaks upon her white robe and the visible stabs of a
fine poniard riveted their attention. That that was the cause of
her death they doubted not, but the mute eloquence of her wounds
spoke only to the heat. It gave no explanation to the intellect.
The whole tragedy seemed wrapped in inexplicable mystery.
"They have covered their track up well!" remarked Cadet. "Hey! but
what have we here?" Bigot started up at the exclamation. The door
of the secret passage stood open. La Corriveau had not closed it
after her when making her escape. "Here is where the assassins have
found entrance and exit! Egad! More people know the secret of your
Chateau than you think, Bigot!"
They sprang forward, and each seizing a lamp, the two men rushed
into the narrow passage. It was dark and still as the catacombs.
No trace of anything to the purpose could they perceive in the
vaulted subterranean way to the turret.
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