good sleeper, I believe, madame?"

"Indeed no, I sleep badly, as a rule."

"Then you would be easily disturbed. Now, last night, did you hear
anything strange in the car, more particularly in the adjoining
compartment?"

"Nothing."

"No sound of voices raised high, no noise of a conflict, a struggle?"

"No, monsieur."

"That is odd. I cannot understand it. We know, beyond all question,
from the appearance of the body,--the corpse,--that there was a fight,
an encounter. Yet you, a wretched sleeper, with only a thin plank of
wood between you and the affray, hear nothing, absolutely nothing. It is
_most_ extraordinary."

"I was asleep. I must have been asleep."

"A light sleeper would certainly be awakened. How can you explain--how
can you reconcile that?" The question was blandly put, but the Judge's
incredulity verged upon actual insolence.

"Easily: I had taken a soporific. I always do, on a journey. I am
obliged to keep something, sulphonal or chloral, by me, on purpose."

"Then this, madame, is yours?" And the Judge, with an air of undisguised