LITMIR.BIZ

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which they give to drink to the idiots who ruin themselves for them. They must possess some peculiar art of preparing and spicing pleasure; since, once they get hold of a man, he sacrifices everything before forsaking them.”

      The cab moved on once more, but soon stopped again.

      The brougham had made a fresh pause, this time in front of a curiosity shop.

      “The woman wants then to buy out half of Paris!” said old Tabaret to himself in a passion. “Yes, if Noel committed the crime, it was she who forced him to it. These are my fifteen thousand francs that she is frittering away now. How long will they last her? It must have been for money, then, that Noel murdered Widow Lerouge. If so, he is the lowest, the most infamous of men! What a monster of dissimulation and hypocrisy! And to think that he would be my heir, if I should die here of rage! For it is written in my will in so many words, ‘I bequeath to my son, Noel Gerdy!’ If he is guilty, there isn’t a punishment sufficiently severe for him. But is this woman never going home?”

      The woman was in no hurry. The weather was charming, her dress irresistible, and she intended showing herself off. She visited three or four more shops, and at last stopped at a confectioner’s, where she remained for more than a quarter of an hour.

      The old fellow, devoured by anxiety, moved about and stamped in his cab. It was torture thus to be kept from the key to a terrible enigma by the caprice of a worthless hussy! He was dying to rush after her, to seize her by the arm, and cry out to her: “Home, wretched, creature, home at once! What are you doing here? Don’t you know that at this moment your lover, he whom you have ruined, is suspected of an assassination? Home, then, that I may question you, that I may learn from you whether he is innocent or guilty. For you will tell me, without knowing it. Ah! I have prepared a fine trap for you! Go home, then, this anxiety is killing me!”

      She returned to her carriage. It started off once more, passed up the Rue de Faubourg Montmarte, turned into the Rue de Provence, deposited its fair freight at her own door, and drove away.

      “She lives here,” said old Tabaret, with a sigh of relief.

      He got out of the cab, gave the driver his forty francs, bade him wait, and followed in the young woman’s footsteps.

      “The old fellow is patient,” thought the driver; “and the little brunette is caught.”

      The detective opened the door of the concierge’s lodge.

      “What is the name of the lady who just came in?” he demanded.

      The concierge did not seem disposed to reply.

      “Her name!” insisted the old man.

      The tone was so sharp, so imperative, that the concierge was upset.

      “Madame Juliette Chaffour,” he answered.

      “On what floor does she reside?”

      “On the second, the door opposite the stairs.”

      A minute later, the old man was waiting in Madame Juliette’s drawing-room. Madame was dressing, the maid informed him, and would be down directly.

      Tabaret was astonished at the luxury of the room. There was nothing flaring or coarse, or in bad taste. It was not at all like the apartment of a kept woman. The old fellow, who knew a good deal about such things, saw that everything was of great value. The ornaments on the mantelpiece alone must have cost, at the lowest estimate, twenty thousand francs.

      “Clergeot,” thought he, “didn’t exaggerate a bit.”

      Juliette’s entrance disturbed his reflections.

      She had taken off her dress, and had hastily thrown about her a loose black dressing-gown, trimmed with cherry-coloured satin. Her beautiful hair, slightly disordered after her drive, fell in cascades about her neck, and curled behind her delicate ears. She dazzled old Tabaret. He began to understand.

      “You wished, sir, to speak with me?” she inquired, bowing gracefully.

      “Madame,” replied M. Tabaret, “I am a friend of Noel Gerdy’s, I may say his best friend, and —”

      “Pray sit down, sir,” interrupted the young woman.

      She placed herself on a sofa, just showing the tips of her little feet encased in slippers matching her dressing-gown, while the old man sat down in a chair.

      “I come, madame,” he resumed, “on very serious business. Your presence at M. Gerdy’s —”

      “Ah,” cried Juliette, “he already knows of my visit? Then he must employ a detective.”

      “My dear child —” began Tabaret, paternally.

      “Oh! I know, sir, what your errand is. Noel has sent you here to scold me. He forbade my going to his house, but I couldn’t help it. It’s annoying to have a puzzle for a lover, a man whom one knows nothing whatever about, a riddle in a black coat and a white cravat, a sad and mysterious being —”

      “You have been imprudent.”

      “Why? Because he is going to get married? Why does he not admit it then?”

      “Suppose that it is not true.”

      “Oh, but it is! He told that old shark Clergeot so, who repeated it to me. Any way, he must be plotting something in that head of his; for the last month he has been so peculiar, he has changed so, that I hardly recognize him.”

      Old Tabaret was especially anxious to know whether Noel had prepared an alibi for the evening of the crime. For him that was the grand question. If he had, he was certainly guilty; if not, he might still be innocent. Madame Juliette, he had no doubt, could enlighten him on that point.

      Consequently he had presented himself with his lesson all prepared, his little trap all set.

      The young woman’s outburst disconcerted him a little; but trusting to the chances of conversation, he resumed.

      “Will you oppose Noel’s marriage, then?”

      “His marriage!” cried Juliette, bursting out into a laugh; “ah, the poor boy! If he meets no worse obstacle than myself, his path will be smooth. Let him marry by all means, the sooner the better, and let me hear no more of him.”

      “You don’t love him, then?” asked the old fellow, surprised at this amiable frankness.

      “Listen, sir. I have loved him a great deal, but everything has an end. For four years, I, who am so fond of pleasure, have passed an intolerable existence. If Noel doesn’t leave me, I shall be obliged to leave him. I am tired of having a lover who is ashamed of me and who despises me.”

      “If he despises you, my pretty lady, he scarcely shows it here,” replied old Tabaret, casting a significant glance about the room.

      “You mean,” said she rising, “that he spends a great deal of money on me. It’s true. He pretends that he has ruined himself on my account; it’s very possible. But what’s that to me! I am not a grabbing woman; and I would much have preferred less money and more regard. My extravagance has been inspired by anger and want of occupation. M. Gerdy treats me like a mercenary woman; and so I act like one. We are quits.”

      “You know very well that he worships you.”

      “He? I tell you he is ashamed of me. He hides me as though I were some horrible disease. You are the first of his friends to whom I have ever spoken. Ask him how often he takes me out. One would think that my presence dishonoured him. Why, no longer ago than last Tuesday, we went to the theatre! He hired an entire box. But do you think that he sat in it with me? Not at all. He slipped away and I saw no more of him the whole evening.”

      “How so? Were you obliged to return home alone?”

      “No. At the end of the play, towards midnight, he deigned to reappear. We had arranged to go to the masked ball at the Opera and then to have some supper. Ah, it was amusing! At the ball, he didn’t dare to let down

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