The Minister, with nervous steps, strode to and fro in the ante-chamber, behind whose windows the Havas despatches gave the current rates of all the Exchanges of Europe. Suddenly a door opened, and a stout man with ruddy complexion entered the room with outstretched arms. “Ah, it is you, General! What trouble you have taken! Just step into this room.” The Minister entered, and as soon as the door was closed he exclaimed— “Ah, my poor friends! How sad it all is!” “We cannot get over the shock, Baradier and I,” said Graff, rolling forward an armchair. “Take a seat, General.” “Who has told you the news?” “Baudoin, who was sleeping here last night, and came in terrified this afternoon with the dismal tidings. What has happened down there? The whole circumstances are even more serious than the disaster itself. Graff and I have been questioning and discussing with one another, without succeeding in settling the frightful problem.” “If only Marcel were here!” moaned Uncle Graff. “He would enlighten us. He is so well acquainted with Trémont’s life and habits, his weaknesses.” “His weaknesses?” asked the Minister. “A woman? Is that what you mean?” “Yes, General.” “You are taking the paltry side of the matter,” said the old soldier, firmly. “It is no question of a mere _passade_. The affair before us is far more than a paltry intrigue. The woman—yes, indeed, she has had a _rôle_ to play. But she has only been the agent, perhaps unwittingly, of an attempt, carefully thought out and boldly executed.” “With what object?” asked Baradier. “Tell me everything, General. Let us communicate our suspicions to one another, in an attempt to throw light on the affair.” “Ah! It is evident that the object of the attack was the discoveries made by Trémont. In this abominable plot, which has ended in the murder of a man we loved, a remarkable _savant_, I see—but do not let this go beyond the three of us here present—the hand of the foreigner.” There was a moment’s silence. Baradier and Graff looked at one another, uneasily, and as though undecided. But the impetuous Baradier could not long keep to himself the idea working in his brain. “We, too, General, seem to recognize in the blow which has fallen on our friend some hateful intention against him and against ourselves at once.” “Baradier,” intervened Graff, “you are going too fast and too far! How can you risk such a charge, on suppositions alone?” “Ah! You still hesitate!” exclaimed Baradier. “You are still bound down by scruples! The deuce! I feel there is treason and infamy in all this! I—Let me continue! I would swear that Lichtenbach is at the bottom of it all!” “You have no right to speak in that way!” exclaimed Graff, rising to his feet and quivering with emotion. “How can you insinuate that a man against whom nothing can be said from either a professional or a moral point of view, is a party to a crime, simply because he is our enemy? It is abominable! We must give some place to justice!”