hich is a trifle more definite than M. Lecoq's
fancies."

Before he could say any more, the sound of a vehicle stopping before
the door of the cabin interrupted him, and an instant afterward the
investigating magistrate entered the room.

All the officials assembled at the Poivriere knew at least by sight the
magistrate who now made his appearance, and Gevrol, an old habitue
of the Palais de Justice, mechanically murmured his name: "M. Maurice
d'Escorval."

He was the son of that famous Baron d'Escorval, who, in 1815, sealed his
devotion to the empire with his blood, and upon whom Napoleon, in the
Memorial of St. Helena, pronounced this magnificent eulogium: "Men
as honest as he may, I believe, exist; but more honest, no, it is not
possible."

Having entered upon his duties as magistrate early in life, and being
endowed with remarkable talents, it was at first supposed that
the younger D'Escorval would rise to the most exalted rank in his
profession. But he had disappointed all such prognostications by
resolutely refusing the more elevated positions that were offered to
him, in order to retain his modest but useful functions in the public
prosecutor's offices at Paris. To explain his repeated refusals, he said
that life in the capital had more charms for him than the most enviable
advancement in provincial centres. But it was hard to understand
this declaration, for in spite of his brilliant connections and large
fortune, he had, ever since the death of his eldest brother, led a most
retired life, his existence merely being revealed by his untiring labors
and the good he did to those around him.

He was now about forty-two years of age, but appeared much younger,
although a few furrows already crossed his brow. One would have admired
his face, had it not been for the puzzling immobility that marred its
beauty, the sarcastic curl of his thin lips, and the gloomy expression
of his pale-blue eyes. To say that he was cold and grave, did not
express the truth, it was saying too little. He was gravity and coldness
personified, with a shade of hauteur added.

Impressed by the horror of the scene the instant he placed his foot upon
the threshold, M. d'Escorval acknowledged the presence of the physicians
and the commissary by a slight nod of the head. The others in the room
had no existence so far as he was concerned. At once his faculties went
to work. He studied the ground, and carefully noted all the surroundings
with