And with these words, he opened a piece of white paper, in which were ten or twelve pieces of lead, stained with coagulated blood, and showing at once a considerable difference in size.  M. Folgat looked puzzled.

“Could there have been two murderers?” he asked half aloud.

“I rather think,” said M. de Chandore, “that the murderer had, like many sportsmen, one barrel ready for birds, and another for hares or rabbits.”

“At all events, this fact puts all premeditation out of question.  A man does not load his gun with small-shot in order to commit murder.”

Dr. Seignebos thought he had said enough about it, and was rising to take leave, when M. de Chandore asked him how Count Claudieuse was doing.

“He is not doing well,” replied the doctor.  “The removal, in spite of all possible precautions, has worn him out completely; for he is here in Sauveterre since yesterday, in a house which M. Seneschal has rented for him provisionally.  He has been delirious all night through; and, when I came to see him this morning, I do not think he knew me.”

“And the countess?” asked Dionysia.

“The countess, madam, is quite as sick as her husband, and, if she had listened to me, she would have gone to bed, too.  But she is a woman of uncommon energy, who derives from her affection for her husband an almost incomprehensible power of resistance.  As to Cocoleu,” he added, standing already near the door, “an examination of his mental condition might produce results which no one seems to expect now.  But we will talk of that hereafter.  And now, I must bid you all good-by.”

“Well?” asked Dionysia and M. de Chandore, as soon as they had heard the street door close behind Dr. Seignebos.

But M. Folgat’s enthusiasm had cooled off very rapidly.

“Before giving an opinion,” he said cautiously, “I must study the report of this estimable doctor.”

Unfortunately, the report contained nothing that the doctor had not mentioned.  In vain did the young advocate try all the afternoon to find something in it that might be useful for the defence.  There were arguments in it, to be sure, which might be very valuable when the trial should come on, but nothing that could be used to make the prosecution give up the case.

The whole house was, therefore, cruelly disappointed and dejected, when, about five o’clock, old Anthony came in from Boiscoran.  He looked very sad, and said,—­

“I have been relieved of my duties.  At two o’clock M. Galpin came to take off the seals.  He was accompanied by his clerk Mechinet, and brought Master Jacques with him, who was guarded by two gendarmes in citizen’s clothes.  When the room was opened, that unlucky man Galpin asked Master Jacques if those were the clothes which he wore the night of the fire, his boots, his gun, and the water in which he washed his hands.  When he had acknowledged every thing, the water was carefully poured into a bottle, which they sealed, and handed to one of the gendarmes.  Then they put master’s clothes in a large trunk, his gun, several parcels of cartridge, and some other articles, which the magistrate said were needed for the trial.  That trunk was sealed like the bottle, and put on the carriage; then that man Galpin went off, and told me that I was free.”