owner had apparently no reason to conceal his name. More strangely,
those who had done him to death had been at no pains to remove all
traces of his identity.

M. Floçon opened the hand-bag, seeking for further evidence; but found
nothing of importance,--only loose collars, cuffs, a sponge and
slippers, two Italian newspapers of an earlier date. No money,
valuables, or papers. All these had been removed probably, and
presumably, by the perpetrator of the crime.

Having settled the first preliminary but essential points, he next
surveyed the whole compartment critically. Now, for the first time, he
was struck with the fact that the window was open to its full height.
Since when was this? It was a question to be put presently to the porter
and any others who had entered the car, but the discovery drew him to
examine the window more closely, and with good results.

At the ledge, caught on a projecting point on the far side, partly in,
partly out of the car, was a morsel of white lace, a scrap of feminine
apparel; although what part, or how it had come there, was not at once
obvious to M. Floçon. A long and minute inspection of this bit of lace,
which he was careful not to detach as yet from the place in which he
found it, showed that it was ragged, and frayed, and fast caught where
it hung. It could not have been blown there by any chance air; it must
have been torn from the article to which it belonged, whatever that
might be,--head-dress, nightcap, night-dress, or handkerchief. The lace
was of a kind to serve any of these purposes.

Inspecting further, M. Floçon made a second discovery. On the small
table under the window was a short length of black jet beading, part of