M. Plantat had already turned his head, and continued in an indifferent tone: "Yes, Sauvresy is to be exhumed. It is suspected that his death was not wholly a natural one. You see, justice always has its suspicions." Robelot leaned against the wall so as not to fall. M. Plantat proceeded: "So Doctor Gendron has been applied to. He has, as you know, found reactive drugs which betray the presence of an alkaloid, whatever it may be, in the substances submitted to him for analysis. He has spoken to me of a certain sensitive paper--" Appealing to all his energy, Robelot forced himself to stand up and resume a calm countenance. "I know Doctor Gendron's process," said he, "but I don't see who could be capable of the suspicions of which you speak." "I think there are more than suspicions," resumed M. Plantat. "Madame de Tremorel, you know, has been murdered: her papers have, of course, been examined; letters have been found, with very damaging revelations, receipts, and so on." Robelot, apparently, was once more self-possessed; he forced himself to answer: "Bast! let us hope that justice is in the wrong." Then, such was this man's self-control, despite a nervous trembling which shook his whole body as the wind does the leaves, that he added, constraining his thin lips to form a smile: "Madame Courtois does not come down; I am waited for at home, and will drop in again to-morrow. Good-evening, gentlemen." He walked away, and soon the sand in the court was heard creaking with his steps. As he went, he staggered like a drunken man. M. Lecoq went up to M. Plantat, and taking off his hat: "I surrender," said he, "and bow to you; you are great, like my master, the great Tabaret." The detective's amour-propre was clearly aroused; his professional zeal was inspired; he found himself before a great crime--one of those crimes which triple the sale of the Gazette of the Courts. Doubtless many of its details escaped him: he was ignorant of the starting-point; but he saw the way clearing before him. He had surprised Plantat's theory, and had followed the train of his thought step by step; thus he discovered the complications of the crime which seemed so simple to M. Domini. His subtle mind had connected together all the circumstances which had been disclosed to him during the day, and now he sincerely admired the old justice of the peace. As he gazed at his beloved portrait, he thought, "Between the two of us--this old fox and I--we will unravel the whole web." He would not, however, show himself to be inferior to his companion. "Monsieur," said he, "while you were questioning this rogue, who will be very useful to us, I did not lose any time. I've been looking about, under the furniture and so on, and have found this slip of paper." "Let's see." "It is the envelope of the young lady's letter. Do you know where her aunt, whom she was visiting, lives?" "At Fontainebleau, I believe."