“This man is so highly placed,” declared Coquenil gravely, “he is so powerful that——­”

“Stop!” interrupted the other.  “I know.  He was in that coaching party; he killed the dog, it was—­it was the Duke de Montreuil.”

“No, it was not,” replied Coquenil.  “The Duke de Montreuil is rich and powerful, as men go in France, but this man is of international importance, his fortune amounts to a thousand million francs, at least, and his power is—­well—­he could treat the Duke de Montreuil like a valet.”

“Who—­who is he?”

Coquenil pointed to his table where a book lay open.  “Do you see that red book?  It’s the Annuaire de la Noblesse Francaise.  You’ll find his name there—­marked with a pencil.”

Tignol went eagerly to the table, then, as he glanced at the printed page there came over his face an expression of utter amazement.

“It isn’t possible!” he cried.

“I know,” agreed Coquenil, “it isn’t possible, but—­it’s true!”

“Dieu de Dieu de Dieu!” frowned the old man, bobbing his cropped head and tugging at his sweeping black mustache.  Then slowly in awe-struck tones he read from the great authority on French titles: 

BARON FELIX RAOUL DE HEIDELMANN-BRUCK, only son of the Baron Georges Raoul de Heidelmann-Bruck, upon whom the title was conferred for industrial activities under the Second Empire.  B. Jan. 19, 1863.  Lieutenant in the 45th cuirassiers, now retired.  Has extensive iron and steel works near St. Etienne.  Also naval construction yards at Brest.  Member of the Jockey Club, the Cercle de la Rue Royale, the Yacht Club of France, the Automobile Club, the Aero Club, etc.  Decorations:  Commander of the Legion of Honor, the order of St. Maurice and Lazare (Italy), the order of Christ (Portugal), etc.  Address:  Paris, Hotel Rue de Varennes Chateau near Langier, Touraine.  Married Mrs. Elizabeth Coogan, who perished with her daughter Mary in the Charity Bazaar fire.

“You see, it’s all there,” said M. Paul.  “His name is Raoul and his wife’s name was Margaret.  She died in the Charity Bazaar fire, and his stepdaughter Mary is put down as having died there, too.  We know where she is.”

“The devil!  The devil!  The devil!” muttered Tignol, his nut-cracker face screwed up in comical perplexity.  “This will rip things wide, wide open.”

The detective shook his head.  “It won’t rip anything open.”

“But if he is guilty?”

“No one will know it, no one would believe it.”

“You know it, you can prove it.”

“How can I prove it?  The courts are closed against me.  And even if they weren’t, do you suppose it would be possible to convict the Baron de Heidelmann-Bruck of any crime?  Nonsense!  He’s the most powerful man in France.  He controls the banks, the bourse, the government.  He can cause a money panic by lifting his hand.  He can upset the ministry by a word over the telephone.  He financed the campaign that brought in the present radical government, and his sister is the wife of the Prime Minister.”