"
He did not speak like a physician but like an examining
magistrate, and his alarming deductions found their way even to M.
Wilkie's dull brain. "Who could have committed the crime?" he
asked.
"It could only have been the person likely to profit by it; and
only one person besides the count knew that the money was in the
house, and had possession of the key of this escritoire."
"And this person?"
"Is the count's illegitimate daughter, who lived in the house with
him--Mademoiselle Marguerite."
M. Wilkie sank into his chair again, completely overwhelmed. The
coincidence between the doctor's deposition and M. Casimir's
testimony was too remarkable to pass unnoticed. Further doubt
seemed impossible. "Ah! this is most unfortunate!" faltered
Wilkie. "What a pity! Such difficulties never assail any one but
me! What am I to do?" And in his distress he glanced from the
doctor to the Marquis de Valorsay, and then at M. de Coralth, as
if seeking inspiration from each of them.
"My profession forbids my acting as an adviser in such cases,"
replied the physician, "but these gentlemen have not the same
reasons for keeping silent."
"Excuse me," interrupted the marquis quickly; "but this is one of
those cases in which a man must be left to his own inspirations.
The most I can do, is to say what course I should pursue if I were
one of the deceased count's relatives or heirs.
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