For the first time Mme. de Thaller shuddered slightly; but it was almost imperceptible.

“From Grenelle,” continued M. de Tregars, “I went to the house where my father’s mistress had lived under the name of Mme. Devil.  I was in luck.  I found there the same concierge as in 1853.  As soon as I mentioned Mme. Devil, she answered me that she had not in the least forgotten her, but, on the contrary, would know her among a thousand.  She was, she said, one of the prettiest little women she had ever seen, and the most generous tenant.  I understood the hint, handed her a couple of napoleons, and heard from her every thing she knew on the subject.  It seemed that this pretty Mme. Devil had, not one lover, but two,—­the acknowledged one, who was the master, and footed the bills; and the other an anonymous one, who went out through the back-stairs, and who did not pay, on the contrary.  The first was called the Marquis de Tregars:  of the second, she had never known but the first name, Frederic.  I tried to ascertain what had become of Mme. Devil; but the worthy concierge swore to me that she did not know.

“One morning, like a person who is going abroad, or who wishes to cover up her tracks, Mme. Devil had sent for a furniture-dealer, and a dealer in second-hand clothes, and had sold them every thing she had, going away with nothing but a little leather satchel, in which were her jewels and her money.”

The Baroness de Thaller still kept a good countenance.  After examining her for a moment, with a sort of eager curiosity, Marius de Tregars went on,

“When I communicated this information to my friend, the commissary of police, he shook his head.  ‘Two years ago,’ he told me, ’I would have said, that’s more than we want to find those people; for the public records would have given us at once the key of this enigma.  But we have had the war and the Commune; and the books of record have been burnt up.  Still we must not give up.  A last hope remains; and I know the man who is capable of realizing it.’

“Two days after, he brought me an excellent fellow, named Victor Chupin, in whom I could have entire confidence; for he was recommended to me by one of the men whom I like and esteem the most, the Duke de Champdoce.  Giving up all idea of applying at the various mayors’ offices, Victor Chupin, with the patience and the tenacity of an Indian following a scent, began beating about the districts of Grenelle, Vargirard, and the Invalids.  And not in vain; for, after a week of investigations he brought me a nurse, residing Rue de l’Universite, who remembered perfectly having once attended, on the occasion of her confinement, a remarkably pretty young woman, living in the Rue des Bergers, and nicknamed the Marquise de Javelle.  And as she was a very orderly woman, who at all times had kept a very exact account of her receipts, she brought me a little book in which