your death seemed to me to
imply Marie's safety. And, one morning, on the Boulevard Suchet, where I
had followed you, I fired a revolver at you.

"The same evening your motor car, tampered with by myself--remember,
Florence's rooms are close to the garage--carried you, I hoped, to your
death, together with Sergeant Mazeroux, your confederate.... That time
again you escaped my vengeance. But an innocent man, the chauffeur who
drove you, paid for you with his life; and Florence's despair was such
that I had to yield to her entreaties and lay down my arms.

"I myself, terrified by what I had done, shattered by the remembrance of
my two victims, changed my plans and thought only of saving Marie by
contriving her escape from prison....

"I am a rich man. I lavished money upon Marie's warders, without,
however, revealing my intentions. I entered into relations with the
prison tradesmen and the staff of the infirmary. And every day, having
procured a card of admission as a law reporter, I went to the law courts,
to the examining magistrates' corridor, where I hoped to meet Marie, to
encourage her with a look, a gesture, perhaps to slip a few words of
comfort into her hand...."

Sauverand moved closer to Don Luis.

"Her martyrdom continued. You struck her a most terrible blow with that
mysterious business of Hippolyte Fauville's letters. What did those
letters mean? Where did they come from? Were we not entitled to
attribute the whole plot to you, to you who introduced them into the
horrible struggle?

"Florence watched you, I may say, night and day. We sought for a clue, a
glimmer of light in the darkness.... Well, yesterday morning, Florence
saw Sergeant Mazeroux arrive. She could not overhear what he said to you,
but she caught the name of a certain Langernault and the name of Damigni,
the village where Langernault lived. She remembered that old friend of
Hippolyte Fauville's. Were the letters not addressed to him and was it
not in search of him that you were going off in the motor with Sergeant
Mazeroux?...

"Half an hour later we were in the train for Alencon. A carriage took us
from the station to just outside Damigni, where we made our inquiries
with every possible precaution. On learning what you must also know, that
Langernault was dead, we resolved to visit his place, and we had
succeeded in effecting an entrance when Florence saw you in the grounds.
Wishing at all costs to avoid a meeting between you and myse