They inspected dormitories and dining - room and kitchen, class - rooms and workshop and laboratory. M. David was expansive and enthusiastic, yet modest. Either he was an accomplished actor, or he had a deep interest in school hygiene, and his arrangements were beyond suspicion. In the laboratory Reggie lingered. “It is elementary,” David apologised. “But what would you have? Some general science, that is all they can do, my little ones: botany for the most part; as you see, a trifle of chemistry to amuse them.”
“Yes. Quite sound. Yes. I’d like to see the other laboratory.”
“What? “David stared. “There is only this.”
“Oh, no. Another one with a big microscope,” Reggie murmured. “North side of the house.”
“Oh, la, la,” David laughed. “You have paid some attention to my poor house. I am flattered. You mean my own den, where I play with marine biology still. Certainly you shall see it. But a little moment. I must get the key. You will understand. One must keep one’s good microscope locked up. These imps, they play everywhere.” He hurried out.
“Bigre! How the devil did you know there was another laboratory? ” said Dubois.
“Saw the microscope yesterday,” Reggie mumbled.
“Name of a dog! Is there anything you do not see?” Dubois complained. “Well, if we have any luck he has run away this time.”
They waited some long while, and Dubois’s face was flattened against the window to peer through the rain at the man on watch. But David had not run away, he came back at last, and apologised for some delay with a fool of a master, heaven give him patience! He took them briskly to the other laboratory, his den.
It was not pretentious. There were some shelves of bottles, and a bench with a sink, and a glass cupboard which stood open and empty. On the broad table in the window was a microscope of high power, and some odds and ends.
Reggie glanced at the bottles of chemicals and came to the microscope. “I play at what I worked at. That is middle age,” David smiled. “Here is something a little interesting.” He slipped a slide into the microscope and invited Reggie to look.
“Oh, yes. One of the diatoms. Pretty one,” Reggie murmured, and was shown some more. “Thanks very much.” A glance set Dubois in a hurry to go. David was affably disappointed. He had hoped they would lunch with him. The gentleman with the registers could hardly have finished his investigations. He desired an investigation the most complete.
“I will leave him here,” Dubois snapped, and they got away. “Nothing, my friend? “Dubois muttered.
“No. That was the point,” Reggie said. “‘When they got there the cupboard was bare.’”
As their car passed the gate, a man signalled to them out of the rain. They stopped just beyond sight of the house, and he joined them. “Bouvier has held someone,” he panted. “A man with a sack.” They got out of the car and Dubois waved him on.
Through the blinding rain - clouds they came to the back of the house, and, on the way up to the cliffs, found Bouvier with his hand on the collar of a sullen, stupefied Breton. A sack lay on the ground at their feet.
“He says it is only rubbish,” Bouvier said, “and he was taking it to throw into the sea, where they throw their waste. But I kept him.”
“Good. Let us see.” Dubois pulled the sack open. “The devil, it is nothing but broken glass!”
Reggie grasped the hand that was going to turn it over. “No, you mustn’t do that,” he said sharply. “Risky.”
“Why? What then? It is broken glass and bits of jelly.”
“Yes. As you say. Broken glass and bits of jelly. However.” Over Reggie’s wet face came a slow benign smile. “Just what we wanted. Contents of cupboard which was bare. I’ll have to do some work on this. I’m going to the hospital. You’d better collect David - in the other car. Good - bye.” …
Twenty - four hours later, he came into a grim room of the gendarmerie at Quimper. There Dubois and David sat with a table between them, and neither man was a pleasant sight. David’s florid colour was gone, he had become untidy, he sagged in his chair, unable to hide fatigue and pain. Dubois also was dishevelled, and his eyes had sunk and grown small, but the big face wore a look of hungry cruelty. He turned to Reggie. “Aha. Here you are at last. And what do you tell M. David?”
“Well, we’ll have a little demonstration.” Reggie set down a box on the table and took from it a microscope. “Not such a fine instrument as yours, M. David, but it will do.” He adjusted a slide. “You showed me some beautiful marine diatoms in your laboratory. Let me show you this. Also from your laboratory. From the sackful of stuff you tried to throw into the sea.”
David dragged himself up and looked, and stared at him, and dropped back in his chair.
“Oh, that’s not all, no.” Reggie changed the slide.
“Try this one.”
Again, and more wearily, David looked. He sat down again. His full lips curled back to show his teeth in a grin. “And then?” he said.
“What have you?” Dubois came to the microscope. “Little chains of dots, eh?” Reggie put back the first slide. “And rods with dots at the end.”
“Not bad for a layman, is it, M. David?” Reggie murmured. “Streptococcus pyogenes, and the diphtheria bacillus. I’ve got some more - -”
“Indeed?” David sneered.
