become Hector de Tremorel. How would a
man reason who was base enough to rob his friend of his wife, and
then see her poison her husband before his very eyes? We already
know that Tremorel hesitated a good while before deciding to commit
this crime. The logic of events, which fools call fatality, urged
him on. It is certain that he looked upon the murder in every point
of view, studied its results, and tried to find means to escape from
justice. All his acts were determined on long beforehand, and
neither immediate necessity nor unforeseen circumstances disturbed
his mind. The moment he had decided on the crime, he said to
himself: 'Grant that Bertha has been murdered; thanks to my
precautions, they think that I have been killed too; Laurence,
with whom I elope, writes a letter in which she announces her
suicide; I have money, what must I do?' The problem, it seems to
me, is fairly put in this way."

"Perfectly so," approved M. Plantat.

"Naturally, Tremorel would choose from among all the methods of
flight of which he had ever heard, or which he could imagine, that
which seemed to him the surest and most prompt. Did he meditate
leaving the country? That is more than probable. Only, as he was
not quite out of his senses, he saw that it was most difficult, in
a foreign country, to put justice off the track. If a man flies
from France to escape punishment, he acts absurdly. Fancy a man
and woman wandering about a country of whose language they are
ignorant; they attract attention at once, are observed, talked
about, followed. They do not make a purchase which is not remarked;
they cannot make any movement without exciting curiosity. The
further they go the greater their danger. If they choose to cross
the ocean and go to free America, they must go aboard a vessel; and
the moment they do that they may be considered as good as lost.
You might bet twenty to one they would find, on landing on the other
side, a detective on the pier armed with a warrant to arrest them.
I would engage to find a Frenchman in eight days, even in London,
unless he spoke pure enough English to pass for a citizen of the
United Kingdom. Such were Tremorel's reflections. He recollected
a thousand futile attempts, a hundred surprising adventures,
narrated by the papers; and it is certain that he gave up the idea
of going abroad."

"It's clear," cried M. Plantat, "perfectly plain and precise. We
must look for the fugitives in France."

"Yes," rep