“Could any thing amiss have happened?” thought the clerk. And his restlessness was so great, that, instead of going home to breakfast with his sisters, he sent an office-boy for a roll and a glass of water. At last, as three o’clock struck, M. Magloire and M. Folgat arrived; and Mechinet saw at once in their faces, that he had been mistaken, and that Jacques had not explained. Still, before M. Magloire, he did not dare inquire. “Here are the papers,” he said simply, putting upon the table an immense box. Then, drawing M. Folgat aside, he asked,-- “What is the matter, pray?” The clerk had certainly acted so well, that they could have no secret from him; and he so was fully committed, that there was no danger in relying upon his discretion. Still M. Folgat did not dare to mention the name of the Countess Claudieuse; and he replied evasively,-- “This is the matter: M. de Boiscoran explains fully; but he had no proofs for his statement, and we are busy collecting proofs.” Then he went and sat down by M. Magloire, who was already deep in the papers. With the help of those documents, it was easy to follow step by step M. Galpin’s work, to see the efforts he had made, and to comprehend his strategy. First of all, the two lawyers looked for the papers concerning Cocoleu. They found none. Of the statement of the idiot on the night of the fire, of the efforts made since to obtain from him a repetition of this evidence, of the report of the experts,--of all this there was not a trace to be found. M. Galpin dropped Cocoleu. He had a right to do so. The prosecution, of course, only keeps those witnesses which it thinks useful, and drops all the others. “Ah, the scamp is clever!” growled M. Magloire in his disappointment. It was really very well done. M. Galpin deprived by this step the defence of one of their surest means, of one of those incidents in a trial which are apt to affect the mind of the jury so powerfully. “We can, however, summon him at any time,” said M. Magloire. They might do so, it is true; but what a difference it would make! If Cocoleu appeared for M. Galpin, he was a witness for the prosecution, and the defence could exclaim with indignation,-- “What! You suspect the prisoner upon the evidence of such a creature?” But, if he had to be summoned by the defence, he became prisoner’s evidence, that is to say, one of those witnesses whom the jury always suspect; and then the prosecution would exclaim,-- “What do you hope for from a poor idiot, whose mental condition is such, that we refused his evidence when it might have been most useful to us?” “If we have to go into court,” murmured M. Folgat, “here is certainly a considerable chance of which we are deprived. The whole character of the case is changed. But, then, how can M. Galpin prove the guilt?”