“Yes, I’ve studied the brief. The material fact of abuse of confidence is shown by the notary’s declaration, and by the report of the commissioner of police. I have found no proofs against your son, but grave presumptions. He was aware of the deposit of the money, he was the last of them all to leave the office, and had got possession of the keys. He might have got the secret of the combination from the memorandum book, in which the head clerk had written it; he had not much in the way of personal resources, and he was bent on eloping with his chief’s wife. With this they have cooked up a regular accusation. Add his departure to a foreign country, his silence, his tardy return. The deposition of the said Philippeaux especially is full of malice. This boy must have been jealous of his more favoured colleague. I suspect him of an unfortunate passion for Mrs. Frasne. A dangerous woman, that. A little thin, but fine eyes. Not my type at all.” A coarse strain in his make-up prevented him from realising that this reflection was misplaced, that the presence of the father of the accused should have made him more reserved in his remarks. He began again after a pause: “It’s not enough to protest that he is innocent. The theft being admitted, the jury will look for a culprit. We must point one out to them. The offensive, I have often noticed, is more certain in results than the defensive. It distracts the jury’s mind, and fixes it somewhere else. I have tried it often with success. Now, in this kind of case, the true culprit is plainly designated.” He spread out a code on the table, and turned over the leaves. His two hearers listened to him without interruption. “Observe that Mrs. Frasne runs no risk. She is covered by Article 880: _Abstractions committed by husbands at the expense of their wives, by wives at the expense of their husbands ... can give rise only to civil actions for damages_.” “We know that,” observed Mr. Hamel. “Within the family there is no theft. To fix suspicion on Mrs. Frasne at the trial is not denouncing her. But there is something better still. My instinct rarely deceives me. I have seen the Frasnes’ marriage contract. I had a shrewd idea I should discover something there. Through the enterprise of an attorney at Grenoble, I arranged a little investigation, and I discovered there proof that Mrs. Frasne, in taking one hundred thousand francs from her husband’s safe, believed she was only taking what belonged to her.” “I don’t understand,” said Mr. Roquevillard, interrupting. “You’ll see what I mean. It’s so clear it blinds you. Her husband, in this marriage contract, agreed to a settlement of one hundred thousand francs.” “In case of her survival?”