ot
for to-day?"

"I don't know. Who has charge of the landing of the King of Spain?"

"Maray. He has just left. Have you seen the last issue of _l'Havas_?"

"Here it is...."

The two men ran rapidly through the night's telegrams.

"Deplorably empty!" remarked the editorial secretary. "But where am I to
send you?... Ah, now I have it! That article of yours on the rue Norvins
affair, yesterday evening, was interesting--it made the others squirm, I
know! Isn't there anything more to be got out of that story?"

"What do you want?"

"Can't you stick in something just a little bit scandalous about the
Baroness de Vibray? Or about Dollon? About no matter whom, in fact?
After all, it's our one and only crime to-day, and you must put in
something under that head!..."

Jerome Fandor seemed to hesitate.

"Would you like me to rake up the past--refer to what happened before?"

"What past?"

"Come now, you must have an inkling of what I refer to!"

"Not I!"

"Ah, my dear fellow, it will not be the first time we have had to
mention these personages in our columns!... Just cast your mind back to
the Gurn affair!..."

"Ah, the drama in which a great lady was implicated ... to her
detriment! Lady ... Lady Beltham?"

"You have got it! These Dollons--Jacques and Elizabeth--did you know
it?--happen to be the children of old Dollon, who was murdered in the
train--an extraordinary murder!--when on his way to Paris, to give
evidence in the Gurn case?"

"Why, of course! I remember perfectly!" declared the editorial
secretary: "Dollon, the father, was the Marquise de Langrune's
steward!... The old lady who was murdered!... Isn't that so?"

"That's it!... But, after the death of his mistress, he entered the
service of the Baroness de Vibray, she who was assassinated yesterday!"

"Well, I must say they have not been favoured by fortune," said the
secretary jokingly. "But, look here, Fandor--like father, like son,
eh?... If this young Dollon has murdered Madame de Vibray, doesn't that
make you think that his father was the murderer of the Marquise de
Langrune?"

Jerome Fandor shook his head:

"No, old boy, yesterday's crime was ordinary, even common-place, but the
assassination of the Marquise de Langrune, on the contrary, gave the
police no end of bother."

"They did not find out anything, did they?"

"Why, yes!... Don't you remember?... Naturally enough, it must all seem
rather remote to you, but I have all the deta