one or two of his own relations from the
country, and even they had to be provided with a password before they
could obtain admission. So now, to all the entreaties of the caller,
Juve's servant stolidly replied with the assurance that his master would
see no one; yet the visitor's insistence was so great that at last the
servant was prevailed upon to bring in his card, albeit with some fear
as to the consequences for himself. But to his extreme relief and
surprise, Juve, when he had read the name engraved upon the card, said
sharply:

"Bring him in here at once!"

And in another couple of seconds M. Etienne Rambert was in the room!

The old gentleman who had fled so mysteriously a few days before, taking
with him the son over whom so dread a charge was hanging, bowed
deferentially to the detective, with the pitiful mien of one who is
crushed beneath the burden of misfortune. His features were drawn, his
face bore the stamp of deepest grief, and in his hand he held an evening
paper, which in his agitation he had crumpled almost into a ball.

"Tell me, sir, if it is true," he said in low trembling tones. "I have
just read that."

Juve pointed to a chair, took the paper mechanically, and smoothing it
out, read, below a large head-line, "Is this a sequel to the Beaulieu
Crime?" a story similar to that he had just gathered from M. de Presles'
telegram.

Juve contemplated M. Etienne Rambert in silence for a few minutes, and
then, without replying directly to his visitor's first question, asked
him a question in that quiet voice of his, the wonderful indifferent
tonelessness of which concealed the least clue to his inmost thoughts.

"Why do you come to me, sir?"

"To find out, sir," the old man answered.

"To find out what?"

"If that poor drowned corpse is--my son's: is my poor Charles!"

"It is rather you who can tell me, sir," said Juve, impassive as ever.

There was a pause. Despite his emotion, M. Rambert seemed to be thinking
deeply. Suddenly he appeared to make an important decision, and raising
his eyes to the detective he spoke very slowly:

"Have pity, sir, on a broken-hearted father. Listen to me: I have a
dreadful confession to make!"

Juve drew his chair close to M. Etienne Rambert.

"I am listening," he said gently, and M. Etienne Rambert began his
"dreadful confession."

IX. ALL FOR HONOUR

Society had mustered in force at the Cahors Law Courts, where the
Assizes were about to be h