The murder was committed at four o’clock.”

“And what does Jacques Aubrieux say in his defence?”

“He declares that he slept all the afternoon. During that time, someone came who managed to unlock the cycle shed and take the motorcycle to go to Suresnes. As for the handkerchief and the revolver, they were in the tool bag. There would be nothing surprising in the murderer’s using them.”

“It seems a plausible explanation.”

“Yes, but the prosecution raised two objections. In the first place, nobody, absolutely nobody, knew that my husband was going to stay at home all day because, on the contrary, it was his habit to go out on his motorcycle every Sunday afternoon.”

“And the second objection?”

She flushed and murmured:

“The murderer went to the pantry at M. Guillaume’s and drank half a bottle of wine straight out of the bottle, which shows my husband’s fingerprints.”

It seemed as though her strength was exhausted and as though, at the same time, the unconscious hope which Rénine’s intervention had awakened in her had suddenly vanished before the accumulation of adverse facts. Again she collapsed, withdrawn into a sort of silent meditation from which Hortense’s affectionate attentions were unable to distract her.

The mother stammered:

“He’s not guilty, is he, sir? And they can’t punish an innocent man. They haven’t the right to kill my daughter. Oh dear, oh dear, what have we done to be tortured like this? My poor little Madeleine!”

“She will kill herself,” said Dutreuil, in a scared voice. “She will never be able to endure the idea that they are guillotining Jacques. She will kill herself presently … this very night …”

Rénine was striding up and down the room.

“You can do nothing for her, can you?” asked Hortense.

“It’s half-past eleven now,” he replied, in an anxious tone, “and it’s to happen tomorrow morning.”

“Do you think he’s guilty?”

“I don’t know … I don’t know … The poor woman’s conviction is too impressive to be neglected. When two people have lived together for years, they can hardly be mistaken about each other to that degree. And yet …”

He stretched himself out on a sofa and lit a cigarette. He smoked three in succession, without a word from anyone to interrupt his train of thought. From time to time he looked at his watch. Every minute was of such importance!

At last he went back to Madeleine Aubrieux, took her hands and said, very gently:

“You must not kill yourself. There is hope left until the last minute has come, and I promise you that, for my part, I will not be disheartened until that last minute. But I need your calmness and your confidence.”

“I will be calm,” she said, with a pitiable air.

“And confident?”

“And confident.”

“Well, wait for me. I shall be back in two hours from now. Will you come with us, M. Dutreuil?”

As they were stepping into his car, he asked the young man:

“Do you know any small, unfrequented restaurant, not too far inside Paris?”

“There’s the Brasserie Lutetia, on the ground floor of the house in which I live, on the Place des Ternes.”

“Capital. That will be very handy.”

They scarcely spoke on the way. Rénine, however, said to Gaston Dutreuil:

“So far as I remember, the numbers of the notes are known, aren’t they?”

“Yes. M. Guillaume had entered the sixty numbers in his pocketbook.”

Rénine muttered, a moment later:

“That’s where the whole problem lies. Where are the notes? If we could lay our hands on them, we should know everything.”

At the Brasserie Lutetia there was a telephone in the private room, where he asked to have lunch served. When the waiter had left him alone with Hortense and Dutreuil, he took down the receiver with a resolute air:

“Hullo! … Prefecture of police, please … Hullo! Hullo! … Is that the Prefecture of police? Please put me on to the criminal investigation department. I have a very important communication to make. You can say it’s Prince Rénine.”

Holding the receiver in his hand, he turned to Gaston Dutreuil:

“I can ask someone to come here, I suppose? We shall be quite undisturbed?”

“Quite.”

He listened again:

“The secretary to the head of the criminal investigation department? Oh, excellent! Mr. Secretary, I have on several occasions been in communication with M.