police declared dead, I have put upon his traces an intelligent man.
As I returned that night I remembered, by a fortunate chance, the name
of Madame Meynardie, mentioned in that letter of Ida, the presumed
mistress of my persecutor. Supplied with this clue, my emissary will
soon get to the bottom of this horrible affair; for he is far more
able to discover the truth than the police themselves."

"Monsieur," replied Desmarets, "I know not how to thank you for this
confidence. You say that you can obtain proofs and witnesses; I shall
await them. I shall seek the truth of this strange affair
courageously; but you must permit me to doubt everything until the
evidence of the facts you state is proved to me. In any case you shall
have satisfaction, for, as you will certainly understand, we both
require it."

Jules returned home.

"What is the matter, Jules?" asked his wife, when she saw him. "You
look so pale you frighten me!"

"The day is cold," he answered, walking with slow steps across the
room where all things spoke to him of love and happiness,--that room
so calm and peaceful where a deadly storm was gathering.

"Did you go out to-day?" he asked, as though mechanically.

He was impelled to ask the question by the last of a myriad of
thoughts which had gathered themselves together into a lucid
meditation, though jealousy was actively prompting them.