“What, is the Counsellor still alive?”

“Certainly, and you know him.  He is not quite in his first youth, and has aged somewhat, but his intellect is as brilliant as ever.”

Catenac grew serious.  “You tell me a great deal,” said he.

“I can tell you even more.  I can tell you that the account of the deed was written under the dictation of Caroline Schimmel,” broke in Mascarin.  “This unlucky woman started for Havre, intending to sail for the United States, but she got no further than that seaport town, for the good looks and the persuasive tongue of a sailor induced her to alter her plans.  As long as her money lasted he remained an ardent lover, but vanished with the disappearance of her last thousand-franc note.  Starving and poverty-stricken, Caroline returned to Paris and to the Duke de Champdoce, who accepted her constant demands for money as a penitent expiation of his crime.  But she remained faithful to her oath; and had it not been for her terrible propensity for drink, Tantaine would never have succeeded in extracting her secret from her.  If, on her recovery from her fit of drunk coma, she recollects what has taken place, she will, if I read her character right, go straight to the Duke de Champdoce and tell him that his secret has passed into better hands.”

At this idea being promulgated, Catenac started from his chair with a loud oath.

“Did you think,” asked Mascarin, “that I should feel so much at my ease if I found that there was the slightest risk?  Let us consider what it is that Caroline can say.  Who is it that she can accuse of having stolen her secret from her?  Why, only a poor old wretch named Tantaine.  How can the Duke possibly trace any connection between this miserable writer and Catenac?”

“Yes, I think that it would be a difficult task.”

“Besides,” pursued Mascarin, “what have we to fear from the Duke de Champdoce?  Nothing, as far as I can see.  Is he not as much in our power as the woman he formerly loved—­Diana de Mussidan?  Do we not hold the letters of both of them, and do we not know in what corner of his garden to dig to discover a damning piece of evidence?  Remember that there will be no difficulty in identifying the skeleton, for at the time of his disappearance, Croisenois had about him several Spanish doubloons, a fact which was given to the police.”

“Well,” said Catenac, “I will act faithfully.  Tell me your plans, and I will let you know all that I hear from the Duke.”

For a moment a smile hovered upon Mascarin’s lips, for this time he placed firm reliance upon the good faith of the lawyer.