ially contagious, he neither
succeeded in convincing the magistrate, nor in shaking his opinion. His
strongest arguments were of no more avail against M. Daburon's absolute
conviction than bullets made of bread crumbs would be against a
breastplate. And there was nothing very surprising in that.

Old Tabaret had on his side only a subtle theory, mere words; M. Daburon
possessed palpable testimony, facts. And such was the peculiarity of
the case, that all the reasons brought forward by the old man to justify
Albert simply reacted against him, and confirmed his guilt.

A repulse at the magistrate's hands had entered too much into M.
Tabaret's anticipations for him to appear troubled or discouraged. He
declared that, for the present, he would insist no more; he had full
confidence in the magistrate's wisdom and impartiality. All he wished
was to put him on his guard against the presumptions which he himself
unfortunately had taken such pains to inspire.

He was going, he added, to busy himself with obtaining more information.
They were only at the beginning of the investigation; and they were
still ignorant of very many things, even of Widow Lerouge's past life.
More facts might come to light. Who knew what testimony the man with the
earrings, who was being pursued by Gevrol, might give? Though in a great
rage internally, and longing to insult and chastise he whom he inwardly
styled a "fool of a magistrate," old Tabaret forced himself to be humble
and polite. He wished, he said, to keep well posted up in the different
phases of the investigation, and to be informed of the result of future
interrogations. He ended by asking permission to communicate with
Albert, He thought his services deserved this slight favour. He desired
an interview of only ten minutes without witnesses.

M. Daburon refused this request. He declared, that, for the present, the
prisoner must continue to remain strictly in solitary confinement.
By way of consolation, he added that, in three or four days, he might
perhaps be able to reconsider this decision, as the motives which
prompted it would then no longer exist.

"Your refusal is cruel, sir," said M. Tabaret; "but I understand it, and
submit."

That was his only complaint: and he withdrew almost immediately, fearing
that he could no longer master his indignation. He felt that, besides
the great happiness of saving an innocent man, compromised by his
imprudence, he would experience unspeakable