any of the
people with whom I had become so dramatically involved. Not that I had
ever doubted the identity of the ruffianly Ernest Berty; still it was
very satisfactory to have my surmises confirmed. I concluded that the
fine house in the Avenue du Jura belonged to Mme. Fournier's brother,
and I vaguely wondered who he was. The invitation to dinner had
certainly been given in her name, and the servants had received her
with a show of respect which suggested that she was more than a guest
in her brother's house.

Be that as it may, I betook myself for the nonce to the Hotel des
Moines in the centre of the town and killed time for the rest of the
day as best I could. For one thing I needed rest after the emotions
and the fatigue of the past forty-eight hours. Remember, Sir, I had
not slept for two nights and had spent the last eight hours on the
narrow front seat of a jolting chaise. So I had a good rest in the
afternoon, and at seven o'clock I presented myself once more at the
house in the Avenue du Jura.

My intention was to retire early to bed after spending an agreeable
evening with the family, who would no doubt overwhelm me with their
gratitude, and at daybreak I would drive back to Gex after I had heard
all the latest news from Leroux.

I confess that it was with a pardonable feeling of agitation that I
tugged at the wrought-iron bell-pull on the perron of the magnificent
mansion in the Avenue du Jura. To begin with I felt somewhat rueful at
having to appear before ladies at this hour in my travelling clothes,
and then, you will admit, Sir, that it was a somewhat awkward
predicament for a man of highly sensitive temperament to meet on terms
of equality a refined if stout lady whose son he had just helped to
send to the gallows. Fortunately there was no likelihood of Mme.
Fournier being as yet aware of this unpleasant fact: even if she did
know at this hour that her son's illicit adventure had come to grief,
she could not possibly in her mind connect me with his ill-fortune. So
I allowed the sumptuous valet to take my hat and coat and I followed
him with as calm a demeanour as I could assume up the richly carpeted
stairs. Obviously the relatives of Mme. Fournier were more than well
to do. Everything in the house showed evidences of luxury, not to say
wealth. I was ushered into an elegant salon wherein every corner
showed traces of dainty feminine hands. There were embroidered silk
cushions upon the sofa, lace