He was about to retire, when, on glancing round the room, he noticed a large casket, inlaid with silver, which had belonged to his wife ever since she was a girl, and which accompanied her everywhere. “That, no doubt, contains the solution of the mystery,” he said to himself. This was one of those moments when a man obeys the dictates of passion without pausing to reflect. Seeing the keys on the mantelpiece, he seized them, and endeavoured to find one that would fit the lock of the casket. The fourth key opened it. It was full of papers. With feverish haste, Martial examined their contents. He had thrown aside several unimportant letters, when he came to a bill that read as follows: “Search made for Madame de Sairmeuse’s child. Expenses for the third quarter of the year 18--.” Martial’s brain reeled. A child! His wife had a child! But he read on: “For the services of two agents at Sairmeuse, ----. For expenses attending my own journey, ----. Divers gratuities, ----. Etc., etc.” The total amounted to six thousand francs; and it was receipted “Chefteux.” With a sort of cold rage, Martial continued his examination of the casket’s contents, and found a miserably-written note, which said; “Two thousand francs this evening, or I will tell the duke the history of the affair at the Borderie.” Then there were several more of Chefteux’s bills; next, a letter from Aunt Medea, in which she spoke of prison and remorse; and, finally, at the bottom of the casket, he found the marriage certificate of Marie-Anne Lacheneur and Maurice d’Escorval, drawn up by the cure of Vigano and signed by the old physician and Corporal Bavois. The truth was as clear as daylight. Stunned, frozen with horror, Martial scarcely had strength enough to place the letters in the casket again, and restore it to its place. Then he tottered back to his own room, clinging to the walls for support. “It was she who murdered Marie-Anne,” he murmured. He was confounded, terror-stricken, by the perfidy of this woman who was his wife--by her criminal audacity, cool calculation and assurance, and her marvellous powers of dissimulation.