"Mon Dieu! mademoiselle, it was very difficult to guess. In the first place, the victim had been robbed of his cloak and hat and belt. The poor young man had nothing on him but his doublet and short-clothes, both of black cloth, and boots of a very common sort. But there was nothing in his pockets--neither money, nor papers, nor weapons; absolutely nothing! How is it possible, then, to guess who he is?--The lieutenant of police, after a careful examination of the body and the clothes, said: "'Evidently this young gentleman had just arrived in Paris, for we do not remember having seen him before. He must have been attacked and robbed by Giovanni, who took his money, his papers, his weapons, and even a part of his clothes. Yes, such a crime can have been committed by none but that bold Italian, who then hurled the body of his victim into the moat, so that this latest crime might be less quickly discovered.'" "Giovanni!" cried Miretta; "always Giovanni! As soon as a murder is committed, everyone agrees to charge it to his account! What is there to prove that it was he who killed this young man?" "Hoity-toity! here is the little brunette defending the robber again!" exclaimed Bahuchet, with a laugh. "Really, my dear, I begin to think that you are one of his band!" Miretta flushed crimson. "I say that," she faltered, "because people tell so many lies, and invent so many stories that----" "Mon Dieu! you do not need to justify yourself!" said Valentine, smiling at her.--"But is that all, Monsieur Bahuchet? Is your terrible story at an end?" "Yes, mademoiselle, that is all. The lieutenant of police has had a search made in the neighborhood, hoping that something might be found belonging to the victim; but what is the use of searching now, when the crime was committed perhaps three weeks ago? If it had not been for a dog, nothing would have been discovered! But those excellent beasts are often much cleverer and more cunning than we are, and they have a most astonishing scent! This one stopped on the edge of the Fossés Jaunes, and his master called him in vain--he would not budge. As such persistence on the dog's part seemed very strange, his master went to him to find out what he was doing. By peering intently into the high grass in the moat, he finally discovered something that looked like a man's arm; he ran for a ladder, and they found the unfortunate victim. But that was all; for they have not succeeded in finding anything in the fields round about, or in the moat where the poor young man lay! Doubtless he was coming to Paris for enjoyment and diversion, and he met death before he had put his foot in the city.--But so it goes!" "I am very, very sorry for the poor fellow who perished so miserably!" said Valentine; "but I did not know him; and as I can do nothing to avenge him, you will allow me, Monsieur Bahuchet, to turn my attention now to the subject that led me to ask you to call here."