“Yes,” retorted Fandor, “but information which simply proved how much the administrators of justice, to which you have the misfortune to belong, can make awful mistakes! When, for once, you succeed in immediately arresting the assassin of someone well known, and are in a position to bring into play all the power and rigour of the law, you are careless enough to give the fellow a chance of punishing himself, you let him commit suicide on the very first night of his arrest!”

Fandor had been speaking in a fairly loud voice, as usual, but, at urgent signs made by his friend, he lowered his tones. “What is it? “he murmured.

His friend rose.

“What we are going to do, old boy, is to take a turn in the galleries! I have something to say to you, and, joking apart, you are not to breathe a word of it to a soul – ok?”

“Count on me!”

Presently the two friends found themselves in one of the corridors of the Palais, known only to barristers and those accused of law-breaking.

“Come now!” cried Fandor. “Your assassin has hanged himself, hasn’t he?”

“My assassin!” exclaimed the junior barrister; “My assassin! Allow me to inform you that Jacques Dollon is innocent!”

“Innocent?” Jérôme Fandor shrugged a disbelieving shoulder; “Innocent! It is the fashion of the day to transform all murderers into innocents!... What grounds have you for making such a declaration of innocence?”

“Here are my grounds! I have just copied it out for you! Read!...”

Fandor hastened to read the paper handed to him by his friend. It was headed thus:

Copy of a letter brought by Maître Gérin to the Public Prosecutor, a letter addressed to Maître Gérin by the Baroness de Vibray.

“Oh, it’s a plant! “ cried Fandor.

“Go on reading, you will see...”

Fandor continued:

My dear Maître,

You will forgive me, I am certain of that, for all the inconvenience I am going to cause you; I turn to you because you are the only friend in whom I have confidence.

I have just received a letter from my bankers, Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil, of whom I have often spoken to you, who you know manage all my money affairs for me.

This letter informs me that I am ruined. You quite understand – absolutely, completely ruined.

The house I am living in, my carriage, the luxurious surroundings so necessary to me, I shall have to give it all up, so they tell me.

These people have dealt me a terrible blow, struck me brutally.