Next, he handled the dressing-bag, and with deft fingers replaced
everything.

Everything was forthcoming but one glass bottle, a small one, the
absence of which he noted, but thought of little consequence, till, by
and by, he came upon it under peculiar circumstances.

Before leaving the car, and after walking through the other
compartments, M. Floçon made an especially strict search of the corner
where the porter had his own small chair, his only resting-place,
indeed, throughout the journey. He had not forgotten the attendant's
condition when first examined, and he had even then been nearly
satisfied that the man had been hocussed, narcotized, drugged.

Any doubts were entirely removed by his picking up near the porter's
seat a small silver-topped bottle and a handkerchief, both marked with
coronet and monogram, the last of which, although the letters were much
interlaced and involved, were decipherable as S.L.L.C.

It was that of the Countess, and corresponded with the marks on her
other belongings. He put it to his nostril, and recognized at once by
its smell that it had contained tincture of laudanum, or some
preparation of that drug.


CHAPTER V

M. Floçon was an experienced detective, and he knew so well that he
ought to be on his guard against the most plausible suggestions, that he
did not like to make too much of these discoveries. Still, he was