ls.
He had no longer any opinion excepting that of his superior. It
was not so easy to persuade, subjugate, and convince the judge.

"But," objected the latter, "you saw Guespin's countenance?"

"Ah, what matters the countenance--what does that prove? Don't
we know if you and I were arrested to-morrow on a terrible charge,
what our bearing would be?"

M. Domini gave a significant start; this hypothesis scarcely
pleased him.

"And yet you and I are familiar with the machinery of justice. When
I arrested Lanscot, the poor servant in the Rue Marignan, his first
words were: 'Come on, my account is good.' The morning that Papa
Tabaret and I took the Viscount de Commarin as he was getting out
of bed, on the accusation of having murdered the widow Lerouge, he
cried: 'I am lost.' Yet neither of them were guilty; but both of
them, the viscount and the valet, equal before the terror of a
possible mistake of justice, and running over in their thoughts
the charges which would be brought against them, had a moment of
overwhelming discouragement."

"But such discouragement does not last two days," said M. Domini.

M. Lecoq did not answer this; he went on, growing more animated
as he proceeded.

"You and I have seen enough prisoners to know how deceitful
appearances are, and how little they are to be trusted. It would
be foolish to base a theory upon a prisoner's bearing. He who
talked about 'the cry of innocence' was an idiot, just as the man
was who prated about the 'pale stupor' of guilt. Neither crime
nor virtue have, unhappily, any especial countenance. The Simon
girl, who was accused of having killed her father, absolutely
refused to answer any questions for twenty-two days; on the
twenty-third, the murderer was caught. As to the Sylvain affair--"

M. Domini rapped lightly on his desk to check the detective. As a
man, the judge held too obstinately to his opinions; as a magistrate
he was equally obstinate, but was at the same time ready to make any
sacrifice of his self-esteem if the voice of duty prompted it. M.
Lecoq's arguments had not shaken his convictions, but they imposed
on him the duty of informing himself at once, and to either conquer
the detective or avow himself conquered.

"You seem to be pleading," said he to M. Lecoq. "There is no need
of that here. We are not counsel and judge; the same honorable
intentions animate us both. Each, in his sphere, is searching after
the truth. You think you see it shin