e," said Bocquin. "By Jove! there's a man badly
wounded, shot through the neck, and no one to tell a word about it. No
seconds present, the thing done quite privately; the wounded man left at
his own door, and the other off,--Heaven knows where."

"And you believe this tale, Bocquin?" said Duchesne, superciliously.

"Believe it!--that I do. I have been to see the place where the man lay;
and by tracking the wheel marks, I have discovered they came from the
Champs Elysees. The cabriolet, too, was a private one; no _fiacre_ has
got so narrow a tire to the wheel."

"Closely followed up,--eh, Burke?" said the chevalier, turning towards
me with a smile of admiration at his sagacity. "Go on, Bocquin."

"Well, I followed the scent to the Barriere de l'Etoile, where I learned
that one cabriolet passed towards the Bois de Boulogne, and returned in
about half an hour. As the pace was a sharp one, I guessed they could
not have gone far, and so I turned into the wood at the first road to
the right, where there is least recourse of people; and, by Jove! I was
all correct. There, in a small open space between the trees, I saw the
marks of recent footsteps, and a little farther on found the grass all
covered with blood."

"Monsieur Bocquin! Monsieur Bocquin! the _commissaire_ wants you," cried
a voice from the landing of the stair; and with an apology for leaving
thus suddenly, he turned away.

We followed, however, curious to hear the remainder of this singular
history; and, after some difficulty, succeeded in gaining admittance to
a small room, now densely crowded with people, the most of whom were
of the very lowest class. The _commissaire_ speedily made place for
us beside him on the bench; for, like every one else in a conspicuous
position, he also was an acquaintance of Duchesne.

While the _commissaire_ conversed with Bocquin in a low tone, we had
time to observe the _salle_ and its occupants. Except the witnesses,
two or three of whom were respectable persons, they were the
squalid-looking, ragged wretches of the quarter, listening with the
greedy appetite of crime to any tale of bloodshed. The surgeon, who had
just returned from visiting the wounded man, was waiting to be examined.
To him now the _commissaire_ directed his attention. It appeared that
the wound was by no means of the dangerous character described, being
merely through the fleshy portion of the neck, without injuring any
part of importance. Having descri