his
display? Exactly the moment when he knows, and everyone in the
neighborhood knows, that he is going to pass the night at the
chateau, alone with Madame de Tremorel.

"For he is aware that all his servants are invited, on the evening
of July 8th to the wedding of the former cook. So well aware of
it is he, that he defrays the wedding expenses, and himself names
the day. You will perhaps say that it was by chance that this
money was sent to Valfeuillu on the very night of the crime. At
the worst that might be admitted. But believe me, there was no
chance about it, and I will prove it. We will go to-morrow to the
count's banker, and will inquire whether the count did not ask him,
by letter or verbally, to send him these funds precisely on July 8th.
Well, if he says yes, if he shows us such a letter, or if he
declares that the money was called for in person, you will confess,
no doubt, that I have more than a probability in favor of my theory."

Both his hearers bowed in token of assent.

"So far, then, there is no objection."

"Not the least," said M. Plantat.

"My conjectures have also the advantage of shedding light on
Guespin's position. Honestly, his appearance is against him, and
justifies his arrest. Was he an accomplice or entirely innocent?
We certainly cannot yet decide. But it is a fact that he has fallen
into an admirably well-laid trap. The count, in selecting him for
his victim, took all care that every doubt possible should weigh
upon him. I would wager that Monsieur de Tremorel, who knew this
fellow's history, thought that his antecedents would add probability
to the suspicions against him, and would weigh with a terrible
weight in the scales of justice. Perhaps, too, he said to himself
that Guespin would be sure to prove his innocence in the end, and
he only wished to gain time to elude the first search. It is
impossible that we can be deceived. We know that the countess died
of the first blow, as if thunderstruck. She did not struggle;
therefore she could not have torn a piece of cloth off the assassin's
vest. If you admit Guespin's guilt, you admit that he was idiot
enough to put a piece of his vest in his victim's hand; you admit
that he was such a fool as to go and throw this torn and bloody vest
into the Seine, from a bridge, in a place where he might know search
would be made--and all this, without taking the common precaution
of attaching it to a stone to carry it to the bottom. That would