“You say you have a deed given you at Lyons by Madame de Lamotte, which you were to give to her husband?”

“It is here.”

The magistrate examined the deed carefully, and noted the name of the lawyer in whose office it had been drawn up.

“You may go,” he said at last.

“What!” exclaimed Monsieur de Lamotte.

Derues stopped, but the magistrate signed to him to go, intimating, however, that he was on no account to leave Paris.

“But,” said Monsieur de Lamotte, when they were alone, “this man is indeed guilty.  My wife has not betrayed me!  She!—­forget her duties as a wife! she was virtue incarnate!  Ah!  I assure you these terrible calumnies are invented to conceal double crime!  I throw myself at your feet,—­I implore your justice!”

“Rise, monsieur.  This is only a preliminary examination, and I confess that, so far, he comes well out of it, for imagination can hardly understand such a depth of deceit.  I watched him closely the whole time, and I could discover no sign of alarm, no contradiction, in either face or language; if guilty, he must be the greatest hypocrite that ever existed.  But I shall neglect nothing:  if a criminal is allowed to flatter himself with impunity, he frequently forgets to be prudent, and I have seen many betray themselves when they thought they had nothing to fear.  Patience, and trust to the justice of both God and man.”

Several days passed, and Derues flattered him self the danger was over:  his every action mean while was most carefully watched, but so that he remained unaware of the surveillance.  A police officer named Mutel, distinguished for activity and intelligence beyond his fellows, was charged with collecting information and following any trail.  All his bloodhounds were in action, and hunted Paris thoroughly, but could trace nothing bearing on the fate of Madame de Lamotte and her son.  Mutel, however, soon discovered that in the rue Saint Victor, Derues had failed—­three successive times, that he had been pursued by numerous creditors, and been often near imprisonment for debt, and that in 1771 he had been publicly accused of incendiarism.  He reported on these various circumstances, and then went himself to Derues’ abode, where he obtained no results.  Madame Derues declared that she knew nothing whatever, and the police, having vainly searched the whole house, had to retire.  Derues himself was absent; when he returned he found another order to appear before the magistrate.

His first success had encouraged him.  He appeared before the magistrate accompanied by a lawyer and full of confidence, complaining loudly that the police, in searching during his absence, had offended against the rights of a domiciled burgess, and ought to have awaited his return.  Affecting a just indignation at Monsieur de Lamotte’s conduct towards him, he presented a demand that the latter should be declared a calumniator, and should pay damages for the injury