The Mystery of Orcival

By

Emile Gaboriau



I

On Thursday, the 9th of July, 186-, Jean Bertaud and his son, well
known at Orcival as living by poaching and marauding, rose at three
o'clock in the morning, just at daybreak, to go fishing.

Taking their tackle, they descended the charming pathway, shaded
by acacias, which you see from the station at Evry, and which leads
from the burg of Orcival to the Seine.

They made their way to their boat, moored as usual some fifty yards
above the wire bridge, across a field adjoining Valfeuillu, the
imposing estate of the Count de Tremorel.

Having reached the river-bank, they laid down their tackle, and
Jean jumped into the boat to bail out the water in the bottom.

While he was skilfully using the scoop, he perceived that one of
the oar-pins of the old craft, worn by the oar, was on the point
of breaking.

"Philippe," cried he, to his son, who was occupied in unravelling