n all that could serve his vengeance, did not deign to
foresee that Laurence might be dishonored; and yet he left her
disarmed before this most cowardly and infamous of men!"

The detective reflected.

"There is one thing," said he, "that I can't explain. Why was it
that these two, who execrated each other, and whom the implacable
will of their victim chained together despite themselves, did not
separate of one accord the day after their marriage, when they had
fulfilled the condition which had established their crime?"

The old justice of the peace shook his head.

"I see," he answered, "that I have not yet made you understand
Bertha's resolute character. Hector would have been delighted with
a separation; his wife could not consent to it. Ah, Sauvresy knew
her well! She saw her life ruined, a horrible remorse lacerated
her; she must have a victim upon whom to expiate her errors and
crimes; this victim was Hector. Ravenous for her prey, she would
not let him go for anything in the world."

"I' faith," observed Dr. Gendron, "your Tremorel was a
chicken-hearted wretch. What had he to fear when Sauvresy's
manuscript was once destroyed?"

"Who told you it had been destroyed?" interrupted M. Plantat.

M. Lecoq at this stopped promenading up and down the room, and sat
down opposite M. Plantat.

"The whole case lies there," said he. "Whether these proofs have
or have not been destroyed."

M. Plantat did not choose to answer directly.

"Do you know," asked he, "to whom Sauvresy confided them for
keeping?"

"Ah," cried the detective, as if a sudden idea had enlightened him,
"it was you."

He added to himself, "Now, my good man, I begin to see where all
your information comes from."

"Yes, it was I," resumed M. Plantat. "On the day of the marriage
of Madame Sauvresy and Count Hector, in conformity with the last
wishes of my dying friend, I went to Valfeuillu and asked to see
Monsieur and Madame de Tremorel. Although they were full of
company, they received me at once in the little room on the
ground-floor where Sauvresy was murdered. They were both very pale
and terribly troubled. They evidently guessed the purpose of my
visit, for they lost no time in admitting me to an interview. After
saluting them I addressed myself to Bertha, being enjoined to do so
by the written instructions I had received; this was another
instance of Sauvresy's foresight. 'Madame,' said I, 'I was charged
by your late husband to hand t