to the scene of the murder; and, so blinded was the old fellow to
external objects, that he moved along the street, first jostled on the
right, then on the left, by the busy passers by, advancing one step and
receding two. He repeated to himself for the fiftieth time the words
uttered by Widow Lerouge, as reported by the milk-woman. "If I wished
for any more, I could have it."

"All is in that," murmured he. "Widow Lerouge possessed some important
secret, which persons rich and powerful had the strongest motives for
concealing. She had them in her power, and that was her fortune. She
made them sing to her tune; she probably went too far, and so they
suppressed her. But of what nature was this secret, and how did she
become possessed of it? Most likely she was in her youth a servant in
some great family; and whilst there, she saw, heard, or discovered,
something--What? Evidently there is a woman at the bottom of it. Did she
assist her mistress in some love intrigue? What more probable? And in
that case the affair becomes even more complicated. Not only must the
woman be found but her lover also; for it is the lover who has moved in
this affair. He is, or I am greatly deceived, a man of noble birth. A
person of inferior rank would have simply hired an assassin. This man
has not hung back; he himself has struck the blow and by that means
avoiding the indiscretion or the stupidity of an accomplice. He is a
courageous rascal, full of audacity and coolness, for the crime has
been admirably executed. The fellow left nothing behind of a nature to
compromise him seriously. But for me, Gevrol, believing in the robbery,
would have seen nothing. Fortunately, however, I was there. But yet it
can hardly be that," continued the old man. "It must be something worse
than a mere love affair."

Old Tabaret entered the porch of the house. The concierge seated by the
window of his lodge saw him as he passed beneath the gas lamp.

"Ah," said he, "the proprietor has returned at last."

"So he has," replied his wife, "but it looks as though his princess
would have nothing to do with him to-night. He seems more loose than
ever."

"Is it not positively indecent," said the concierge, "and isn't he in
a state! His fair ones do treat him well! One of these fine mornings I
shall have to take him to a lunatic asylum in a straight waistcoat."

"Look at him now!" interrupted his wife, "just look at him now, in the
middle of the courtyard!"

T