"The unhappy woman, you mean."

"No, sir. She uttered the words I have just repeated. Evidently the
exclamation did not refer to my poor nurse."

Upon this reply, so important and yet made in the most unconscious tone,
M. Daburon raised his eyes to the witness. The advocate lowered his
head.

"And then?" asked the magistrate, after a moment's silence, during which
he had taken a few notes.

"Those words, sir, were the last spoken by Madame Gerdy. Assisted by our
servant, I carried her to her bed. The doctor was sent for; and, since
then, she has not recovered consciousness. The doctor--"

"It is well," interrupted M. Daburon. "Let us leave that for the
present. Do you know, sir, whether Widow Lerouge had any enemies?"

"None that I know of, sir."

"She had no enemies? Well, now tell me, does there exist to your
knowledge any one having the least interest in the death of this poor
woman?"

As he asked this question the investigating magistrate kept his eyes
fixed on Noel's, not wishing him to turn or lower his head.

The advocate started, and seemed deeply moved. He was disconcerted; he
hesitated, as if a struggle was going on within him.

Finally, in a voice which was by no means firm, he replied, "No, no
one."

"Is that really true?" asked the magistrate, looking at him more
searchingly. "You know no one whom this crime benefits, or whom it might
benefit,--absolutely no one?"

"I know only one thing, sir," replied Noel; "and that is, that, as far
as I am concerned, it has caused me an irreparable injury."

"At last," thought M. Daburon, "we have got at the letters; and I have
not betrayed poor old Tabaret. It would be too bad to cause the least
trouble to that zealous and invaluable man." He then added aloud: "An
injury to you, my dear sir? You will, I hope, explain yourself."

Noel's embarrassment, of which he had already given some signs, appeared
much more marked.

"I am aware, sir," he replied, "that I owe justice not merely the truth,
but the whole truth; but there are circumstances involved so delicate
that the conscience of a man of honour sees danger in them. Besides, it
is very hard to be obliged to unveil such sad secrets, the revelation of
which may sometimes--"

M. Daburon interrupted with a gesture. Noel's sad tone impressed him.
Knowing, beforehand, what he was about to hear, he felt for the young
advocate. He turned to his clerk.

"Constant!" said he in a peculiar tone. This was ev