Of course it was possible that she might try to send word to me in some way or another, but I hardly thought it likely. She would know the risk she ran of a message being intercepted by Poirot, thus setting him on her track once more. Clearly her only course was to disappear utterly for the time being.
But, in the meantime, what was Poirot doing? I studied him attentively. He was wearing his most innocent air, and staring meditatively into the far distance. He looked altogether too placid and supine to give me reassurance. I had learned, with Poirot, that the less dangerous he looked, the more dangerous he was. His quiescence alarmed me.
'Observing a troubled quality in my glance?' he smiled benignantly. 'You are puzzled, Hastings? You ask yourself why I do not launch myself in pursuit?'
'Well-something of the kind.'
'It is what you would do, were you in my place. I understand that. But I am not of those who enjoy rushing up and down a country seeking a needle in a haystack, as you English say. No-let Mademoiselle Bella Duveen go. Without doubt, I shall be able to find her when the time comes. Until then, I am content to wait.'
I stared at him doubtfully. Was he seeking to mislead me? I had an irritating feeling that, even now, he was master of the situation. My sense of superiority was gradually waning.
I had contrived the girl's escape, and evolved a brilliant scheme for saving her from the consequences of her rash act-but I could not rest easy in my mind. Poirot's perfect calm awakened a thousand apprehensions.
'I suppose Poirot,' I said rather diffidently, 'I mustn't ask what your plans are? I've forfeited the fight.'
'But not at all. There is no secret about them. We return to France without delay. Precisely-'we'! You know very well that you cannot afford to let Papa Poirot out of your sight. Eh? is it not so, my friend? But remain in England by all means if you wish-'
I shook my head. He had hit the nail on the head. I could not afford to let him out of my sight. Although I could not expect his confidence after what had happened, I could still check his actions. The only danger to Bella lay with him.
Giraud and the French police were indifferent to her existence.
At all costs I must keep near Poirot.
Poirot observed me attentively as these reflections passed through my mind, and gave me a nod of satisfaction.
'I am right, am I not? And as you are quite capable of trying to follow me, disguised with some absurdity such as a false beard-which everyone would perceive, bien entendu-I much prefer that we should voyage together. It would annoy me greatly that anyone should mock themselves at you.'
'Very well, then. But it's only fair to warn you-'
'I know-I know all. You are my enemy! Be my enemy then. It does not worry me at all.'
'So long as it's all fair and aboveboard, I don't mind.'
'You have to the full the English passion for 'fair play'! Now your scruples are satisfied, let us depart immediately. There is no time to be lost. Our stay in England has been short but sufficient. I know what I wanted to know.'
The tone was light, but I read a veiled menace into the words.
'Still-' I began, and stopped.
'Still-as you say! Without doubt you are satisfied with the part you are playing. Me, I preoccupy myself with Jack Renauld.'
Jack Renauld! The words gave me a start. I had completely forgotten that aspect of the case. Jack Renauld, in prison, with the shadow of the guillotine looming over him.
I saw the part I was playing in a more sinister light. I could save Bella-yes, but in doing so I ran the risk of sending an innocent man to his death.
I pushed the thought from me with horror. It could not be. He would be acquitted. Certainly he would be acquitted.
But the cold fear came back. Suppose he were not? What then? Could I have it on my conscience-horrible thought!
Would it come to that in the end? A decision. Bella or Jack Renauld? The promptings of my heart were to save the girl I loved at any cost to myself. But, if the cost were to another the problem was altered.
What would the girl herself say? I remembered that no word of Jack Renauld's arrest had passed my lips. As yet she was in total ignorance of the fact that her former lover was in prison charged with a hideous crime which he had not committed. When she knew, how would she act? Would she permit her life to be saved at the expense of his? Certainly she must do nothing rash. Jack Renauld might, and probably would, be acquitted without any intervention on her part. If so, good. But if he was not! That was the terrible, the unanswerable problem. I fancied that she ran no risk of the extreme penalty. The circumstances of the crime were quite different in her case. She could plead jealousy and extreme provocation, and her youth and beauty would go for much. The fact that by a tragic mistake it was Mr. Renauld, and not his son who paid the penalty would not alter the motive of the crime. But in any case, however lenient the sentence of the Court, it must mean a long term of imprisonment.
No, Bella must be protected. And, at the same time, Jack Renauld must be saved. How this was to be accomplished I did not see clearly. But I pinned my faith to Poirot. He knew. Come what might, he would manage to save an innocent man. He must find some pretext other than the real one. It might be difficult, but he would manage it somehow.
And with Bella unsuspected, and Jack Renauld acquitted, all would end satisfactorily.
So I told myself repeatedly, but at the bottom of my heart there still remained a cold fear.
Chapter 24. 'Save Him!'
WE crossed from England by the evening boat, and the following morning saw us in St. Omer, whither Jack Renauld had been taken. Poirot lost no time in visiting M. Hautet.
As he did not seem disposed to make any objections to my accompanying him, I bore him company.
After various formalities and preliminaries, we were conducted to the examining magistrate's room. He greeted us cordially.
'I was told that you had returned to England, Monsieur Poirot. I am glad to find that such is not the case.'
'It is true that I went there, monsieur, but it was only for a flying visit. A side issue, but one that I fancied might repay investigation.'
'And it did-eh?'
Poirot shrugged his shoulders. M. Hautet nodded, sighing.
'We must resign ourselves, I fear. That animal Giraud, his manners are abominable, but he is undoubtedly clever! Not much chance of that one making a mistake.'
'You think not?'
It was the examining magistrate's turn to shrug his shoulders. 'Oh, well, speaking frankly-in confidence, of course can you come to any other conclusion?'
'Frankly, there seem to me to be many points that are obscure.'
'Such as-?'
But Poirot was not to be drawn. 'I have not yet tabulated them,' he remarked. 'It was a general reflection that I was making. I liked the young man, and should be sorry to believe him guilty of such a hideous crime. By the way, what has he to say for himself on the matter?'
The magistrate frowned. 'I cannot understand him. He seems incapable of putting up any sort of defence. It has been most difficult to get him to answer questions. He contents himself with a general denial, and beyond that takes refuge in a most obstinate silence. I am interrogating him again tomorrow, perhaps you would like to be present?'
We accepted the invitation with empressement.
'A distressing case,' said the magistrate with a sigh. 'My sympathy for Madame Renauld is profound.'
'How is Madame Renauld?'
