er Mme. Fauvel? And how does Madeleine come to be mixed up
in the affair?"

"These questions, my dear Prosper, I cannot yet answer; therefore I
postpone seeing the judge. I only ask you to wait ten days; and, if I
cannot in that time discover the solution of this mystery, I will return
and go with you to report to M. Patrigent all that we know."

"Are you going to leave the city?"

"In an hour I shall be on the road to Beaucaire. It was from that
neighborhood that Clameran came, as well as Mme. Fauvel, who was a Mlle.
de la Verberie before marriage."

"Yes, I knew both families."

"I must go there to study them. Neither Raoul nor Clameran can escape
during my absence. The police are watching them. But you, Prosper, must
be prudent. Promise me to remain a prisoner here during my trip."

All that M. Verduret asked, Prosper willingly promised. But he did not
wish to be left in complete ignorance of his projects for the future, or
of his motives in the past.

"Will you not tell me, monsieur, who you are, and what reasons you had
for coming to my rescue?"

The extraordinary man smiled sadly, and said:

"I tell, in the presence of Nina, on the day before your marriage with
Madeleine."

Once left to his own reflections, Prosper began to appreciate the
powerful assistance rendered by his friend.

Recalling the field of investigation gone over by his mysterious
protector, he was amazed at its extent.

How many facts had been discovered in a week, and with what precision,
although he had pretended to be on the wrong track! Verduret had grouped
his evidence, and reached a result which Prosper felt he never could
have hoped to attain by his own exertions.

He was conscious that he possessed neither Verduret's penetration nor
his subtlety. He did not possess this art of compelling obedience,
of creating friends at every step, and the science of making men and
circumstances unite in the attainment of a common result.

He began to regret the absence of his friend, who had risen up in the
hour of adversity. He missed the sometimes rough but always kindly
voice, which had encouraged and consoled him.

He felt wofully lost and helpless, not daring to act or think for
himself, more timid than a child when deserted by his nurse.

He had the good sense to follow the recommendations of his mentor. He
remained shut up in the Archangel, not even appearing at the windows.

Twice he had news of M. Verduret. The first time he