Goussot...."

"Go to blazes!"

And he slammed the door in their face.

Old Trainard had now been hidden within the walls of Heberville for
something like four weeks. The Goussots continued their search as
doggedly and confidently as ever, but with daily decreasing hope, as
though they were confronted with one of those mysterious obstacles which
discourage human effort. And the idea that they would never see their
money again began to take root in them.

* * * * *

One fine morning, at about ten o'clock, a motor-car, crossing the
village square at full speed, broke down and came to a dead stop.

The driver, after a careful inspection, declared that the repairs would
take some little time, whereupon the owner of the car resolved to wait
at the inn and lunch. He was a gentleman on the right side of forty,
with close-cropped side-whiskers and a pleasant expression of face; and
he soon made himself at home with the people at the inn.

Of course, they told him the story of the Goussots. He had not heard it
before, as he had been abroad; but it seemed to interest him greatly. He
made them give him all the details, raised objections, discussed various
theories with a number of people who were eating at the same table and
ended by exclaiming:

"Nonsense! It can't be so intricate as all that. I have had some
experience of this sort of thing. And, if I were on the premises...."

"That's easily arranged," said the inn-keeper. "I know Farmer
Goussot.... He won't object...."

The request was soon made and granted. Old Goussot was in one of those
frames of mind when we are less disposed to protest against outside
interference. His wife, at any rate, was very firm:

"Let the gentleman come, if he wants to."

The gentleman paid his bill and instructed his driver to try the car on
the high-road as soon as the repairs were finished:

"I shall want an hour," he said, "no more. Be ready in an hour's time."

Then he went to Farmer Goussot's.

He did not say much at the farm. Old Goussot, hoping against hope, was
lavish with information, took his visitor along the walls down to the
little door opening on the fields, produced the key and gave minute
details of all the searches that had been made so far.

Oddly enough, the stranger, who hardly spoke, seemed not to listen
either. He merely looked, with a rather vacant gaze. When they had been
round the estate, old Goussot asked, anxiously:

"We