Old Tabaret spoke in a low voice, clear and penetrating:  and his eye glanced from one to the other of his auditors, watching the impression he was making.

“Does the hat astonish you, M. Gevrol?” he pursued.  “Just look at the circle traced in the dust on the marble top of the secretary.  Is it because I have mentioned his height that you are surprised?  Take the trouble to examine the tops of the wardrobes and you will see that the assassin passed his hands across them.  Therefore he is taller than I am.  Do not say that he got on a chair, for in that case, he would have seen and would not have been obliged to feel.  Are you astonished about the umbrella?  This lump of earth shows an admirable impression not only of the end of the stick, but even of the little round piece of wood which is always placed at the end of the silk.  Perhaps you cannot get over the statement that he smoked a cigar?  Here is the end of a trabucos that I found amongst the ashes.  Has the end been bitten?  No.  Has it been moistened with saliva?  No.  Then he who smoked it used a cigar-holder.”

Lecoq was unable to conceal his enthusiastic admiration, and noiselessly rubbed his hands together.  The commissary appeared stupefied, while M. Daburon was delighted.  Gevrol’s face, on the contrary, was sensibly elongated.  As for the corporal, he was overwhelmed.

“Now,” continued the old fellow, “follow me closely.  We have traced the young man into the house.  How he explained his presence at this hour, I do not know; this much is certain, he told the widow he had not dined.  The worthy woman was delighted to hear it, and at once set to work to prepare a meal.  This meal was not for herself; for in the cupboard I have found the remains of her own dinner.  She had dined off fish; the autopsy will confirm the truth of this statement.  Besides you can see yourselves, there is but one glass on the table, and one knife.  But who is this young man?  Evidently the widow looked upon him as a man of superior rank to her own; for in the cupboard is a table-cloth still very clean.  Did she use it?  No.  For her guest she brought out a clean linen one, her very best.  It is for him this magnificent glass, a present, no doubt, and it is evident she did not often use this knife with the ivory handle.”

“That is all true,” murmured M. Daburon, “very true.”

“Now, then we have got the young man seated.  He began by drinking a glass of wine, while the widow was putting her pan on the fire.  Then, his heart failing him, he asked for brandy, and swallowed about five small glassfuls.  After an internal struggle of ten minutes (the time it must have taken to cook the ham and eggs as much as they are), the young man arose and approached the widow, who was squatting down and leaning forward over her cooking.  He stabbed her twice on the back; but she was not killed instantly.  She half arose seizing the assassin by the hands; while he drew back, lifting her suddenly, and then