‘Aha, going away?’ asked Gollipeck, leaning back in his chair, and looked sharply at the young man through his spectacles, ’right—­see the world—­you’re clever—­won’t go far wrong—­no!’

‘It doesn’t matter much if I do,’ replied Vandeloup, shrugging his shoulders, and taking a chair, ‘nobody will bother much about me.’

‘Eh!’ queried the doctor, sharply, sitting up.  ’Paris—­friends—­ relations.’

’My only relation is an aunt with a large family; she’s got quite enough to do looking after them, without bothering about me,’ retorted M. Vandeloup; ‘as to friends—­I haven’t got one.’

‘Oh!’ from Gollipeck, with a cynical smile, ’I see; let us say—­ acquaintances.’

‘Won’t make any difference,’ replied Vandeloup, airily; ’I turned my acquaintances into friends long ago, and then borrowed money off them; result:  my social circle is nil.  Friends,’ went on M. Vandeloup, reflectively, ’are excellent as friends, but damnable as bankers.’

Gollipeck chuckled, and rubbed his hands, for this cynicism pleased him.  Suddenly his eye caught the book which the young man had returned.

‘You read this?’ he said, laying his hand on it; ‘good, eh?’

‘Very good, indeed,’ returned M. Vandeloup, smoothly; ’so kind of you to have lent it to me—­all those cases quoted were known to me.’

‘The case of Adele Blondet, for instance, eh?’ asked the old man sharply.

‘Yes, I was present at the trial,’ replied Vandeloup, quietly; ’the prisoner Octave Braulard was convicted, condemned to death, reprieved, and sent to New Caledonia.’

‘Where he now is,’ said Gollipeck, quickly, looking at him.

‘I presume so,’ replied Vandeloup, lazily.  ’After the trial I never bothered my head about him.’

‘He poisoned his mistress, Adele Blondet,’ said the doctor.

‘Yes,’ answered Vandeloup, leaning forward and looking at Gollipeck, ’he found she was in love with an Englishman, and poisoned her—­you will find it all in the book.’

‘It does not mention the Englishman,’ said the doctor, thoughtfully tapping the table with his hand.

’Nevertheless he was implicated in it, but went away from Paris the day Braulard was arrested,’ answered Vandeloup.  ’The police tried to find him, but could not; if they had, it might have made some difference to the prisoner.’

‘And the name of this Englishman?’

‘Let me see,’ said Vandeloup, looking up reflectively; ’I almost forget it—­Kestroke or Kestrike, some name like that.  He must have been a very clever man to have escaped the French police.’

‘Ah, hum!’ said the doctor, rubbing his nose, ’very interesting indeed; strange case!’

‘Very,’ assented M. Vandeloup, as he arose to go, ’I must say good-bye now, doctor; but I am coming up to Ballarat on a visit shortly.’

‘Ah, hum! of course,’ replied Gollipeck, also rising, ’and we can have another talk over this book.’