' barrows, Jerome Fandor hailed a taxi.

"To the Palais!"

Some minutes later he was crossing the hall of the Wandering Footsteps
(as it is called), giving rapid, cordial greetings to all the barristers
of his acquaintance--one never knew when they might impart a special
piece of information which let an enterprising journalist into the know,
or put him early on to a good thing--and finally reached the lobbies of
the Law Courts proper. He was saying to himself as he went along:

"He is a good fellow, Jouet! The news is not known yet! He telephoned me
first!"

His friend Jouet met him, with a warm handshake:

"You did not seem to be in a good temper at the telephone just now,
although I was giving you a nice bit of information!"

"Yes," retorted Fandor, "but information which simply proved how much
the administrators of justice, to which you have the misfortune to
belong, can make egregious mistakes! When, for once, you succeed in
immediately arresting the assassin of someone well known, and are in a
position to bring into play all the power and rigour of the law, you are
clumsy enough to give the fellow a chance of punishing himself, you let
him commit suicide on the very first night of his arrest!"

Fandor had been speaking in a fairly loud voice, as usual, but, at
imperative signs made by his friend, he lowered his tones:

"What is it?" he murmured.

His friend rose:

"What we are going to do, old boy, is to take a turn in the galleries!
I have something to say to you, and, joking apart, you are not to
breathe a word of it to a soul--sh?"

"Count on me!"

Presently the two friends found themselves in one of the corridors of
the Palais, known only to barristers and those accused of law-breaking.

"Come now!" cried Fandor, "your assassin has hanged himself, hasn't he?"

"My assassin!" expostulated the junior barrister: "My assassin! Allow me
to inform you that Jacques Dollon is innocent!"

"Innocent?" Jerome Fandor shrugged a disbelieving shoulder: "Innocent!
It is the fashion of the day to transform all murderers into
innocents!... What ground have you for making such a declaration of
innocence?"

"Here is my ground! I have just copied it out for you! Read!..."

Fandor hastened to read the paper handed to him by his friend. It was
headed thus:

"_Copy of a letter brought by Maitre Gerin to the Public
Prosecutor, a letter addressed to Maitre Gerin by the Baroness de
Vibray._"

"Oh