first."

"No," answered M. Lecoq, "I'll prove to the contrary. The proof is
easy, indeed, and a child of ten, having heard it, wouldn't think
of being deceived by this intentional disorder of the bedclothes."

M. Lecoq's auditors drew up to him. He put the coverings back upon
the middle of the bed, and went on:

"Both of the pillows are much rumpled, are they not? But look under
the bolster--it is all smooth, and you find none of those wrinkles
which are made by the weight of the head and the moving about of
the arms. That's not all; look at the bed from the middle to the
foot. The sheets being laid carefully, the upper and under lie
close together everywhere. Slip your hand underneath--there--you
see there is a resistance to your hand which would not occur if the
legs had been stretched in that place. Now Monsieur de Tremorel
was tall enough to extend the full length of the bed."

This demonstration was so clear, its proof so palpable, that it
could not be gainsaid.

"This is nothing," continued M. Lecoq. "Let us examine the second
mattress. When a person purposely disarranges a bed, he does not
think of the second mattress."

He lifted up the upper mattress, and observed that the covering of
the under one was perfectly even.

"H'm, the second mattress," muttered M. Lecoq, as if some memory
crossed his mind.

"It appears to be proved," observed the judge, "that Monsieur de
Tremorel had not gone to bed."

"Besides," added the doctor, "if he had been murdered in his bed,
his clothes would be lying here somewhere."

"Without considering," suggested M. Lecoq, "that some blood must
have been found on the sheets. Decidedly, these criminals were
not shrewd."

"What seems to me surprising," M. Plantat observed to the judge,
"is that anybody would succeed in killing, except in his sleep, a
young man so vigorous as Count Hector."

"And in a house full of weapons," added Dr. Gendron; "for the
count's cabinet is full of guns, swords and hunting knives; it's
a perfect arsenal."

"Alas!" sighed M. Courtois, "we know of worse catastrophes. There
is not a week that the papers don't--"

He stopped, chagrined, for nobody was listening to him. Plantat
claimed the general attention, and continued:

"The confusion in the house seems to you surprising; well now, I'm
surprised that it is not worse than it is. I am, so to speak, an
old man; I haven't the energy of a young man of thirty-five; yet it
seems to me that if a