nd, that, by
this means, he might get rid of us."

Catenac began to utter protestations and denials, but Mascarin cut him
short with an imperative gesture, and, after a long pause, he again
commenced,--

"You must understand that my inquisitors have had but little to do in
this affair, for my work has chiefly consisted in putting fragments
together. It is not to me that you are indebted for the sensational
(I think that that was the term used) part of my story, but rather to
Madame de Mussidan and Norbert de Champdoce. I am sure that some of the
phrases must have struck you considerably."

"It seems to me," objected Catenac--

"Perhaps," broke in Mascarin, "you have forgotten the correspondence
which the Countess de Mussidan preserved so carefully--both his letters
and her own, which Norbert returned to her."

"And we have those?"

"Of course we have, only there is a perfect romance contained in these
letters. What I have read is a mere bald extract from them; and this
is not all. The man who assisted me in the unravelling of this dark
intrigue was the original promoter--Daumon."

"What, is the Counsellor still alive?"

"Certainly, and you know him. He is not quite in his first youth, and
has aged somewhat, but his intellect is as brilliant as ever."

Catenac grew serious. "You tell me a great deal," said he.

"I can tell you even more. I can tell you that the account of the
deed was written under the dictation of Caroline Schimmel," broke in
Mascarin. "This unlucky woman started for Havre, intending to sail for
the United States, but she got no further than that seaport town, for
the good looks and the persuasive tongue of a sailor induced her to
alter her plans. As long as her money lasted he remained an ardent
lover, but vanished with the disappearance of her last thousand-franc
note. Starving and poverty-stricken, Caroline returned to Paris and to
the Duke de Champdoce, who accepted her constant demands for money as a
penitent expiation of his crime. But she remained faithful to her oath;
and had it not been for her terrible propensity for drink, Tantaine
would never have succeeded in extracting her secret from her. If, on
her recovery from her fit of drunk coma, she recollects what has taken
place, she will, if I read her character right, go straight to the Duke
de Champdoce and tell him that his secret has passed into better hands."

At this idea being promulgated, Catenac started from his chair with