ssizecourt was not of your opinion.
The jury returned an unanimous verdict of acquittal. And when a man has
a clear conscience and twelve good men in his favor--"

The ex-inspector seized him by the arm and said:

"No fine phrases, my boy. Now, listen to me and weigh my words
carefully. You will find they are worthy of your consideration. Now,
Danegre, three weeks before the murder, you abstracted the cook's key
to the servants' door, and had a duplicate key made by a locksmith named
Outard, 244 rue Oberkampf."

"It's a lie--it's a lie!" growled Victor. "No person has seen that key.
There is no such key."

"Here it is."

After a silence, Grimaudan continued:

"You killed the countess with a knife purchased by you at the Bazar de
la Republique on the same day as you ordered the duplicate key. It has a
triangular blade with a groove running from end to end."

"That is all nonsense. You are simply guessing at something you don't
know. No one ever saw the knife."

"Here it is."

Victor Danegre recoiled. The ex-inspector continued:

"There are some spots of rust upon it. Shall I tell you how they came
there?"

"Well!.... you have a key and a knife. Who can prove that they belong to
me?"

"The locksmith, and the clerk from whom you bought the knife. I have
already refreshed their memories, and, when you confront them, they
cannot fail to recognize you."

His speech was dry and hard, with a tone of firmness and precision.
Danegre was trembling with fear, and yet he struggled desperately to
maintain an air of indifference.

"Is that all the evidence you have?"

"Oh! no, not at all. I have plenty more. For instance, after the crime,
you went out the same way you had entered. But, in the centre of the
wardrobe-room, being seized by some sudden fear, you leaned against the
wall for support."

"How do you know that? No one could know such a thing," argued the
desperate man.

"The police know nothing about it, of course. They never think of
lighting a candle and examining the walls. But if they had done so, they
would have found on the white plaster a faint red spot, quite distinct,
however, to trace in it the imprint of your thumb which you had pressed
against the wall while it was wet with blood. Now, as you are well
aware, under the Bertillon system, thumb-marks are one of the principal
means of identification."

Victor Danegre was livid; great drops of perspiration rolled down his
face and fell upon the