"I should like you to ask monsieur the reason why he was walking
yesterday in the sunk road which leads up to the little door."

It was an unexpected and dramatic stroke. Isidore Beautrelet
appeared nonplussed:

"I, mademoiselle? I? You saw me yesterday?"

Raymonde remained thoughtful, with her eyes upon Beautrelet, as
though she were trying to settle her own conviction, and then said,
in a steady voice:

"At four o'clock in the afternoon, as I was crossing the wood, I met
in the sunk road a young man of monsieur's height, dressed like him
and wearing a beard cut in the same way--and I received a very clear
impression that he was trying to hide."

"And it was I?"

"I could not say that as an absolute certainty, for my recollection
is a little vague. Still--still, I think so--if not, it would be an
unusual resemblance--"

M. Filleul was perplexed. Already taken in by one of the
confederates, was he now going to let himself be tricked by this
self-styled schoolboy? Certainly, the young man's manner spoke in
his favor; but one can never tell!

"What have you to say, sir?"