to exculpate herself?" inquired the detective
greatly surprised.

"Yes! she attempted the impossible. She pretended she could explain
the correspondence. She told me . . . But can I remember what she said?
Lies, absurd, infamous lies."

The advocate had finished gathering up his letters, without noticing the
abstraction. He tied them together carefully, and replaced them in the
secret drawer of his bureau.

"Yes," continued he, rising and walking backwards and forward across
his study, as if the constant movement could calm his anger, "yes, she
pretended she could show me I was wrong. It was easy, was it not, with
the proofs I held against her? The fact is she adores her son, and her
heart is breaking at the idea that he may be obliged to restitute what
he has stolen from me. And I, idiot, fool, coward, almost wished not to
mention the matter to her. I said to myself, I will forgive, for after
all she has loved me! Loved? no. She would see me suffer the most
horrible tortures, without shedding a tear, to prevent a single hair
falling from her son's head."

"She has probably warned the count," observed old Tabaret, still
pursuing his idea.

"She may have tried, but cannot have succeeded, for the count has been
absent from Paris for more than a month and is not expected to return
until the end of the week."

"How do you know that?"

"I wished to see the count my father, to speak with him."

"You?"

"Yes, I. Do you think that I shall not reclaim my own? Do you imagine
that I shall not raise my voice. On what account should I keep silent,
who have I to consider? I have rights, and I will make them good. What
do you find surprising in that?"

"Nothing, certainly, my friend. So then you called at M. de Commarin's
house?"

"Oh! I did not decide on doing so all at once," continued Noel. "At
first my discovery almost drove me mad. Then I required time to reflect.
A thousand opposing sentiments agitated me. At one moment, my fury
blinded me; the next, my courage deserted me. I would, and I would not.
I was undecided, uncertain, wild. The scandal that must arise from the
publicity of such an affair terrified me. I desired, I still desire to
recover my name, that much is certain. But on the eve of recovering it,
I wish to preserve it from stain. I was seeking a means of arranging
everything, without noise, without scandal."

"At length, however, you made up your mind?"

"Yes, after a struggle of fifteen days, fif