"Have you thought what an impartial judge would say?"

"I think I have."

"He would say," broke in the Count, "that no sane man would have written
such things down, for there are certain secrets which we do not whisper
even to ourselves, and it is hardly likely that any man would make such
compromising entries in a diary which might be lost or stolen, and which
would certainly be read by his heir. Do you think that a man of high
position would record his perjury, which is a crime that would send him
to penal servitude?"

Mascarin gazed upon the Count with an air of pity.

"You are not going the right way, my lord, to get out of your trouble.
No lawyer would adopt your theory. If the remaining volumes of M. de
Clinchain's diaries were produced in court, I imagine that other equally
startling entries would be found in them."

The Count now appeared to have arrived at some decision, and to continue
the conversation simply for the purpose of gaining time.

"Well," said he, "I will give up this idea; but how do I know that
these documents are not forgeries? Nowadays, handwritings are easily
facsimilied, when even bankers find it hard to distinguish between their
own notes and counterfeit ones."

"That can be settled by seeing if certain leaves are missing from the
Baron's diary."