, "we have discovered
the real assassin! It is he, my adopted son, my heir, Noel!"

"Noel!" repeated M. Daburon, rising. And then in a lower tone, he added,
"I suspected it."

"A warrant is necessary at once," continued the old fellow. "If we lose
a minute, he will slip through our fingers. He will know that he is
discovered, if his mistress has time to warn him of my visit. Hasten,
sir, hasten!"

M. Daburon opened his lips to ask an explanation; but the old detective
continued: "That is not all. An innocent man, Albert, is still in
prison."

"He will not be so an hour longer," replied the magistrate; "a moment
before your arrival, I had made arrangements to have him released. We
must now occupy ourselves with the other one."

Neither old Tabaret nor M. Daburon had noticed the disappearance of the
Count de Commarin. On hearing Noel's name mentioned, he gained the door
quietly, and rushed out into the passage.

CHAPTER XIX.

Noel had promised to use every effort, to attempt even the impossible,
to obtain Albert's release. He in fact did interview the Public
Prosecutor and some members of the bar, but managed to be repulsed
everywhere. At four o'clock, he called at the Count de Commarin's house,
to inform his father of the ill success of his efforts.

"The Count has gone out," said Denis; "but if you will take the trouble
to wait----"

"I will wait," answered Noel.

"Then," replied the valet, "will you please follow me? I have the
count's orders to show you into his private room."

This confidence gave Noel an idea of his new power. He was at home,
henceforth, in that magnificent house, he was the master, the heir! His
glance, which wandered over the entire room, noticed the genealogical
tree, hanging on the wall. He approached it, and read.

It was like a page, and one of the most illustrious, taken from the
golden book of French nobility. Every name which has a place in our
history was there. The Commarins had mingled their blood with all the
great families; two of them had even married daughters of royalty. A
warm glow of pride filled the advocate's heart, his pulse beat quicker,
he raised his head haughtily, as he murmured, "Viscount de Commarin!"

The door opened. He turned, and saw the count entering. As Noel was
about to bow respectfully, he was petrified by the look of hatred,
anger, and contempt on his father's face.

A shiver ran through his veins; his teeth chattered; he felt that he was