THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 S45D84 
 
 OmET 
 
 189a 
 cop. 2. 
 
 F^EMOTE STORAGE 
 
Return this book on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 University of Illinois Library 
 
i 
 
THE 
 
 MYSTERIOUS JUROR 
 
 / 
 
 — BY— 
 
 FORTUNE DU BOISGOBEY. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 Chicago 
 
 HOMEWOOD PUBLISf^I]NTG COMPANY 
 
COPYRIGHT. 1892. 
 
 By MORRILL, HIGGINS & CO, 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1893, 
 
 By W. B. CONKEY COMPANY. 
 
pEMOtESTORAS^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It is growing late and the long court-room is 
 partially obscured by shadows; the waning 
 light still illumines the platform where the 
 court is sitting ; but the seats of the jurors, the 
 bench of the accused, and the crowd of spec- 
 tators are already plunged in the semi-obscu- 
 rity of the twilight of a gloomy autumn day. 
 
 **The case is closed," the grave voice of the 
 president has said. The magistrates and the 
 jurors have retired. Nothing now remains but 
 to hear the verdict, yet the audience has not 
 stirred. 
 
 It is made up of those amateurs of strong 
 emotions who would pass the whole night upon 
 their feet rather than fail to be present at the 
 denouement of the drama. They must witness 
 the anguish of the accursed at the moment when 
 
 963 1 55 
 
6 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 he is brought back into the court room, and 
 when his eyes question the face of his counsel' 
 to learn his fate before his sentence is pro- 
 nounced. 
 
 There has not been a more exciting case tried 
 in Paris for many years. 
 
 First, the accused k a woman, and a woman 
 of rank. The crime imputed to her is an odious 
 one, but it has not been clearly proved ; she 
 denies it, and has defended herself with a skill 
 which has elicited the admiration of veterans 
 at the bar. ^ 
 
 The room is crowded with political, literkry 
 and fashionable celebrities. Among the priv- 
 ileged ones who occupy reserved seats are two 
 gentlemen who are exchanging, in a low voice, 
 their opinions on the discussion which has just 
 ended and to which they have listened with the 
 most exemplary attention. 
 
 *'My friend, said the younger, ** I VBOuld bet 
 that this remarkable- Baroness will be acquitted 
 off-hand." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 7 
 
 Not I/' murmured the other, who appeared 
 older and more serious. 
 
 "You take the bet then? I give Mme. de 
 Noyal one hundred louis against fifty/' 
 
 '' Do not speak so loud. It is not decent to 
 bet on a woman's life." 
 
 "Bahl No one can hear us. Do you take 
 the bet or not?'' 
 
 " Well, let it be so. I will take it." 
 
 " Good ! you can get ready to write a check 
 for a thousand francs this evening." . 
 
 *'We sh^U see! and while waiting I should 
 like to know upon what grounds you base your 
 certainty of an acquittal." 
 
 "Upon very simple reasoning. When one 
 'person kills another, he has a motive for the 
 murder. Now I defy you and I defy all the 
 attorney-generals in France to say why the 
 Baroness Angelique de Noyal should have sent 
 a bullet into the heart of her cousin, Mile. 
 Jeanne Caristie. It was not for her money, 
 
8 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 surely, for the young girl had none, while the 
 Baroness has had an income of eighty thousand 
 francs since she has been the widow of that 
 great booby, de Noyal/' 
 
 "Do you believe then that one commits mur- 
 der for money only?" ^ 
 
 **No; sometimes from hate and sometimes 
 for revenge. But what reason could Mme. de 
 Noyal have to hate an orphan girl whom she 
 had taken into her house and overwhelmed 
 with kindness ? Will you tell me that Mme. de 
 Noyal, who is one of the most beautiful and 
 elegant women in Paris, was jealous of a little 
 girl from the provinces whom no one has ever 
 courted — unless it be you?" 
 
 **I have nothing to do with the case, and I 
 beg you not to bring me into it." 
 
 **Ah! Ah! what a tone you take! Excuse 
 me, Monsieur Robert du Plessis. If I had 
 
 thought that " 
 
 My poor Raoul, you must try to cure your 
 mania for joking on all subjects. The tragic 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 9 
 
 death of this young woman has deeply affected 
 me. You know this, and yet you talk as if 
 you had forgotten it/' 
 
 "I was wrong, I acknowledge it. Let us go 
 back to this dear Baroness who has been pur- 
 sued with incomprehensible animosity. These 
 lawyers of the new school attack her because 
 she is noble, rich and in good society, but they 
 will have their trouble for their pains. The 
 charge falls to the ground." 
 
 **I am not of your opinion. Shall I run 
 over the facts ? Mme. de Noyal was passing 
 the summer at her country house with Mile. 
 Caristie. One evening at the beginning of 
 September she went for a walk in the park, 
 taking her cousin with her, a thing she had 
 never before done. An hour after she returned, 
 wild with excitement, and told her servants 
 that some one had shot at her and wounded 
 Jeanne, and that instead of remaining to aid 
 her cousin, she had made her escape.'' 
 
 " We do not expect a woman to be very 
 
10 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 brave, and to have remained, at the risk of be- 
 ing killed, would have been heroism/' 
 
 ^'Agreed, but it is not so easy to tell how 
 Mile. Caristie was killed by a bullet fired by 
 somq person so near that the powder burned 
 her corsage." 
 
 You have heard the answers which the pris- 
 oner gave to the questions of the president. 
 She said that the shot was fired from a hedge 
 which borders the path where they were walk- 
 ing, side by side, and that her cousin, who was 
 on her left, almost touched the hedge. Besides 
 it has been proved that the Baroness was ex- 
 tremely afraid of pistols, and that she had 
 never owfied or even handled one in her whole 
 life. And the revolver was not found. Her 
 counsel argued from this fact that it was not 
 she who fired it, and I believe that he is right, 
 although the prosecution affirms the contrary ; 
 but there has been no proof that she is not the 
 accomplice of the assassin who has disappeared 
 without leaving any trace. How could he have 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. II 
 
 got into' the park and how could he have got 
 out, if she had not opened the gate for him ?" 
 
 My dear fellow, you were born for an attor- 
 ney-general ; you plead as if you were a lawyer. 
 It is very fortunate that you were not on the 
 prosecution for they have not convinced the 
 jury. He who wishes to prove too much, proves 
 nothing. The prosecuting attorney was too 
 violent and overshot the mark/* 
 
 Perhaps that is so; but there is no half-way, 
 either this woman is a monster or she is a saint." 
 
 I prefer to believe that she is a saint, and I 
 repeat that there is no crime without a cause. 
 This story of rivalry between the cousins is a 
 ridiculous invention of the prosecution who are 
 very much put to it for an argument. Where 
 is this Don Juan whom both these women 
 adored ? No one has been able to say who he 
 is. Perhaps it is you," said Raoul, who seemed 
 to have constituted himself the official advo- 
 cate of the accused. 
 
12 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''There it is again said du Plessis angrily, 
 have already asked you not to mix me up 
 with the affair/' 
 
 Oh ! do not be angry ; you had nothing to 
 do with it, I know that— and the proof of it is 
 that you were not called as a witness. But 
 really, you used to visit at Mme. de Noyals; 
 you have often seen Mile. Caristie and ought to 
 know better than I, who hardly knew them at 
 all, whether there was any one addressing 
 them.'* 
 
 ''Mme. de Noyal did not lack admirers. A 
 great many fine gentlemen would gladly have 
 consoled the widow who is worth two or three 
 millions, but these same fine gentlemen would 
 not have married an orphan without dower, 
 simply for her beautiful eyes^ Perhaps I might ' 
 have done so foolish a thing. I liked Mile, 
 Caristie very much, and I think I might have 
 become seriously in love with her; but I had 
 not reached that point when this terrible event 
 happened/' 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1 3 
 
 Acknowledge then that there is no sense 
 in the supposition of the attorney-general." 
 
 Pardon me ! Mnre. de Noyal was not jeal- 
 ous of me, but perhaps she was of some one 
 else." 
 
 **You would have perceived it, and yo4a have 
 just told me that you never saw anything of 
 the kind." 
 
 **No-— not among those with whom I gener- 
 ally saw her. But she went into society a great 
 deal and I did not visit at all the houses where 
 she went with her young cousin." 
 
 .**True ! But other people would have known 
 the men with whom she was pleased, and no 
 one has said that she showed a preference for 
 any one. Maybe you will tell me that she kept 
 it a secret." 
 
 Ah ! you have tired me out at last ! I will 
 not answer j^ou at all. One thing is certain — 
 Mile. Caristie was murdered,^ and — — " 
 
 Unless she committed suicide," 
 
14 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 " Come ! you reason with your mind already 
 made up. I give up trying to convince you, 
 and it will be useless to discuss the matter any 
 longer, for I hear the bell which announces the 
 renewal of the session. The jurors have 
 agreed and their verdict will settle the ques- 
 tion." 
 
 "And win my bet," said Raoul. His friend 
 shrugged his shoulders and kept still. 
 
 " The Court ! Hats off ! " shouted the crier. 
 The magistrates had taken their seats, the jurors 
 were in their places, and the prosecuting attor- 
 ney had resumed his place. The counsel for 
 the defense had not left the room. All were ^ 
 present but the prisoner. 
 
 By the light of the lamps which had just 
 been lighted, the robe of the president, flanked 
 by those of the assistant judges, glowed like a 
 red spot between two black ones. 
 
 The audience was excited, and the murmur 
 of the anxious spectators was heard, as at the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 1 5 
 
 theater when the curtain rises on the supreme 
 scene of a drama which has been impatiently 
 expected. 
 
 More agitated than he appeared Robert du 
 Plessis looked at the jurors. He tried to read 
 their faces, but with little success. Their faces 
 only expressed fatigue, and satisfaction at being 
 relieved from a long and arduous service. 
 There was one, however, who was distinguished 
 from the others by his dress and the express- 
 ion of his face. 
 
 He was still young, forty at most, and his 
 eyes shone, with a peculiar light; they were 
 restless and uneasy eyes which saw everything 
 and fixed themselves nowhere. Robert fancied 
 they rested on him with a certain persistence, 
 but he must have been mistaken, for he did not 
 remember ever to have_seen this juryman who 
 was dressed like a club-man, and he was sur- 
 prised that he had not noticed him during the 
 session as he sat at the end of the highest 
 bench — the place reserved for the foreman, 
 
l6 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 who is chosen by lot. But Robert had only 
 looked at the accused and the free and honest 
 citizens who were to be her judges left the 
 room at the same time as she. 
 
 They had just returned and this man was 
 about to read the verdict 
 
 At the request of the president, he rose, 
 placed his hand on his heart, and in the midst 
 of an affecting silence, pronounced in a sonor- 
 ous voice the consecrated formula: "On my 
 honor and my conscience, before God and be- 
 fore men, the decision of the jury is:" He 
 paused between this invariable preamble and 
 the words which followed, just as an actor docs 
 before uttering some word for effect. And the 
 words were : Not guilty." 
 
 An "Ah!" went up from every breast, but 
 there were neither cheers nor murmurs. It ex- 
 pressed the relief of the people after their 
 long waiting,— nothing more. And to teil the 
 truth, opinions differed widely. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I7 
 
 The procureur-general did not try to repress 
 a gesture of dissatisfaction, but the judges re- 
 tained their impassability of countenance, and 
 the counsel for the defense, smiling, bowed like 
 a man who was expecting this result. Nothing 
 remained but to inform the prisoner, and the 
 president gave the order for her to be brought 
 in. She entered with her head high, her face 
 unmoved, hei look steady, andsheard the clerk 
 read the verdict. She evidently already knew 
 what to expect, for a glance of her counsel had 
 reassured her. Then, the president said grave- 
 ly and slowly : 
 
 *'We, president of the Court of Assizes ot 
 the Seine, by virtue of the power vested in us 
 by the law; seeing the- decision of the jury, 
 declare the said Angelique Rabutin, widow de 
 Noyal, acquitted of the charge brought against 
 her and we command that she be set at liberty 
 immediately, if she be not detained for other 
 cause." 
 
 Robert du Plessis knew tKe president, and it 
 
l8 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 was through him that he had a reserved place 
 at the trial. It seemed to him that the severe 
 magistrate had slipped rapidly over the words 
 the said prescribed by the code,, which does not ' 
 pride itself on politeness, and he was obliged 
 to him for it, although he was not absolutely 
 convinced of the innocence of the Baroness. 
 
 He was still in doubt, but he wished to be- 
 lieve it, and he was not at all sorry that the 
 jury had acquitted a woman at whose house he 
 had been received before the tragic event which 
 had brought her into the Court of Assizes. 
 Appearances were against her, but the proofs 
 were lacking, and Robert preferred agreeing 
 with the verdict to persisting in suspecting 
 Mme. de Noyal of assassinating a young girl 
 whom he had been so near loving. 
 
 Human justice punishes, but it does not re- 
 store, and a condemnation, even if it had been 
 just, would not have restored Jeanne Canstie, 
 the victim of an unexplained if not inexplic- 
 able crime. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. ig 
 
 Robert du Plessis began then to rejoice at 
 the happy issue of this judicial drama, and 
 even to pity the woman who had been marked 
 by an ineffaceable stain and whose acquittal 
 would only partially reinstate her, for the world 
 is so constituted that accusation and calumny 
 always leave a taint. He had forgotten what 
 the acquittal was going to cost him. His friend 
 Raoul recalled it to his mind by saying gaily: 
 **You owe me fifty louis, you know." 
 "I know it," replied Robert, "I will pay 
 them and not regret it either, for I would will- 
 ingly have given fifty louis that I might not 
 have to deplore that I had been friends with a 
 criminal." 
 
 Well, you take your part with a good grace 
 and I compliment you. It is never too late to 
 find out that one is mistaken. And now I hope 
 you will again go to see the poor Baroness. 
 You owe her a visit after the crisis which she 
 has passed through, as much as if she had 
 
20 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 recovered from an illness which threatened her 
 life." 
 
 "It is not the same thing at all, and I have 
 not the least desire to congratulate her." 
 
 **Bah! you will go all the same, and I shall 
 ask you to introduce me. I am dying to know 
 her." 
 
 **As for me, I wish I had never known her, 
 and as for presenting you, that would not be 
 easy, for I do not suppose she will open her 
 house again. It is not as if she had passed the 
 season at Aix." 
 
 Why not? That would be very fearless, 
 and would be the best way of showing that she 
 had nothing to be ashamed of/' 
 
 "That may be; but no one would visit her." 
 
 "On the contrary, I bet that she would be 
 obliged to refuse people." 
 
 "Enough of such bets," said Robert, angrily. 
 "The play is over; let us go." 
 
 It was time, for the audience had risen, the 
 Court, the jurors and the accused had already 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 21 
 
 gone, and the two friends had only to follow 
 the crowd which noisily evacuated the court- 
 room. This they did, and with difficulty 
 succeeded in getting out of the Palais de Jus- 
 tice, the doors were so blocked. 
 
 Raoul Vignemale, careless optimist that he 
 was, lighted a cigar while descending the grand 
 staircase. His comrade was in no such hurry 
 to smoke. Although not easily affected, hav- 
 ing always lived to amuse himself, and never 
 taking anything too seriously, the judicial 
 drama which he had just witnessed had im- 
 pressed him very strongly, and he was more 
 preoccupied than he would like to have con- 
 fessed, with his future relations with Mme de 
 Noyal. He would be almost obliged to see 
 her again, although he had said the contrary, 
 and he was not decided about it. He hoped 
 that she would relieve him from his embarrass- 
 ment by expatriating herself, or at least by 
 withdrawing from society so that she might be 
 forgotten. 
 
22 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 The jury had acquitted her but Robert 
 doubted her innocence. He was traveling in 
 Scotland when the murder was committed in 
 the park of a villa in the suburbs of Paris. He 
 heard of the event through the papers, then 
 almost immediately of the arrest of the Bar- 
 oness. The proceedings of this strange trial 
 had not enlightened him very much. He would 
 have liked to know more before coming to a 
 conclusion, but he had obtained no further in- 
 formation — not concerning the facts — but about 
 the causes. 
 
 While waiting for an opportunity, he wished 
 to separate himself from his friend Raoul, to 
 whom he w^ould not confide his perplexities 
 and whose company would have hindered him. 
 He was seeking a pretext, when he saw, in a 
 group at the foot of the staircase, the man who 
 had read the verdict. The others were also 
 jurymen and seemed to be talking among 
 themselves, of the case which they had just de- 
 cided. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 23 
 
 Robert wanted very much to hear what they 
 were saying, but he could not mingle in their 
 conversation, and was passing on his way just 
 as they separated, after shaking hands with 
 each other. He followed with his eyes the one 
 whom he had observed in the court-room, and 
 was not surprised to see him get into an elegant 
 coupe which was waiting on the Boulevard du 
 Palais. This personage had already seemed to 
 him to belong to that section of the world 
 which rides in its carriage, and as the only one 
 of his kind on the jury. He regretted that he 
 did not know his name, but he hoped to meet 
 him some day in a parlor or club-room, and re- 
 solved in that case to get some one to intro- 
 duce him, for the sole purpose of finding out 
 what he thought of the trial of the Baroness. 
 
 *'Who is that juror who is bowing to you 
 suddenly asked Vignemale, stopping in the 
 middle of the large court. 
 "What, — a juror?" murmured du Plessis, 
 **Yes, I saw him on the benches." 
 
24 THE MYSJERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 *'That is my upholsterer — M. Dauphin. Do 
 you think he was on the jury 
 
 " I am sure of it. One does not soon forget 
 a head like that ; it seems to me he is anxious 
 to speak to you. Is he going to present his 
 bill?" 
 
 "No, for I do not owe him anything, but I 
 should like to talk with him." 
 
 "Really ? Well, then I will leave you. I do 
 not care to talk with this famous merchant, and 
 I will be off to the club, where I shall find a 
 card party perhaps, by way of an appetizer be- 
 fore dinner." 
 
 "As you please," said Robert, who, as we 
 have seen, wished to be relieved of his com- 
 panion, " I will try to join you there, but I wish 
 to give an order to M. Dauphin, and since I 
 have met him here, I will improve the oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 Vignemale was already some way off, for he 
 too was glad to separate, from his friend. He 
 preferred the emotions of play to those oi the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 2$ 
 
 court-room, and it was difficult for him to pass 
 a whole day without a game of cards. 
 
 When Robert w^as alone, within a few steps 
 of the upholsterer, he went to him and ad- 
 dressed him familiarly. 
 
 **Well! Monsieur Dauphin, you were on the 
 jury and the trial must have seemed very long 
 to you.'' 
 
 **One must do his duty as a citizen," re- 
 sponded the tradesman, drawing himself up, 
 **but I confess that this has been pretty hard.'' 
 
 **It certainly must be hard to leave business 
 when one is at the head of a house like yours." 
 
 **Oh! that is nothing; but when it is a ques- 
 tion of a woman's life " 
 
 Fortunately you acquitted her." 
 
 "Yes — by a small majority. There were 
 seven for acquittal and five against. Six against 
 six the result would have been the same, but a 
 change of only two would have condemned 
 her." 
 
 "Is it indiscreet to ask how you voted ?" 
 
26 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **No, Monsieur, for I have the courage of my 
 convictions. I voted for conviction, but I 
 should also have voted for extenuating circum- 
 stances. I am absolutely opposed to capital 
 punishment." 
 
 "Oh! then I am certain that you voted con- 
 scientiously, I, perhaps, should have acquitted 
 Mme. de Noyal.'' 
 
 "If she was acquitted, it was because she 
 had an able advocate.'* 
 
 "Who? Her counsel?^' 
 
 "No, the foreman of the jury. Ah! but she 
 owes him a big debt.'* 
 
 "What!" cried Robert, "did he speak in 
 favor of the accused 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur,'' responded the upholsterer, 
 "and much better than her counsel did. When 
 we went into the jury-room, we were all for 
 conviction. Well, in three-quarters of an hour 
 he had changed the majority— arid not by any 
 high-flown rhetoric either — but by talking sim- 
 ply, just as he would have talked in a parlon 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR.' 2/ 
 
 He has reasons which convince you — if you 
 only listen to him. My mind was already 
 made up, and yet there was a moment when I 
 was almost persuaded." 
 
 **He should seek admission to the bar; he 
 would make a hundred thousand francs a year." 
 
 **Oh! there is no need of that ! He is very 
 rich. You must know his name, the Marquis 
 de Chenerailles.'* 
 
 **No, I do not know him at all." 
 
 **That is astonishing, for he is often men- 
 tioned in the fashionable journals, and I should 
 very much like to be his upholsterer, for he is 
 going to furnish a superb apartment which he 
 has just hired in the neighborhood of the 
 Champs Elysees.'' 
 
 "If I should make his acquaintance I will 
 recommend you to him,'' said Robert du Plessis, 
 a little ironically; "but I think he must know 
 Mme. de Noyal, since he defended her so ably.*' 
 
 "That cannot be, or the prosecution would 
 have challenged him." 
 
28 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 
 
 **True! and it permitted this gentleman to 
 take his seat, very fortunately too, for perhaps 
 she was innocent/' 
 
 **I doubt it, but I am very well pleased that 
 she came out of it safely, for if she had been 
 condemned to death I should have had bad 
 dreams, and I have just passed through so 
 
 many emotions " 
 
 ' **That you long to get home to recover your- 
 self. Good evening M. Dauphin. Come to 
 my house some morning, I want to renew the 
 paper on my smoking-room," and without 
 stopping to hear the upholsterer's thanks, 
 Robert went with accelerated steps toward the 
 Boulevard du PalaiSc 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Whither was he going so rapidly ? He did 
 not know himself, but he felt impelled to walk 
 fast in the open air after eight hours in the 
 stifling atmosphere of the court-room. 
 
 He went up the boulevard, and instead of 
 going over the Pont au Change, turned to the 
 left, by the Quay de V Horologe. Night had 
 come, and there were very few people on the 
 quay, which is not mu^eh frequented even in 
 day time, especially at the entrance which is 
 darkened by the high towers of the Concier- 
 gerie,* for farther on, in the house which sepa- 
 rates it from the old Place Dauphine, there are 
 shops and lighted windows. Robert walked 
 along the parapet by the river. He was pleased 
 with the isolation for it permitted him to be- 
 come absorbed in his reflections, and he went 
 on without looking in front of him, so t hat he 
 
 * A prison. 
 
30 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 just escaped running against two men who 
 were talking on the sidewalk, near a carriage. 
 
 He hastened to get down into the roadway, 
 when by the light of a gas jet he recognized the 
 foreman of the jury. This gentleman was 
 about to enter his carriage. One foot was al- 
 ready in, and his interlocutor was holding the 
 door open, as the commissionaires do at the 
 entrance of the theatres. 
 
 The latter certainly did not belong to what 
 the bourgeois call the classe dirigeante (direct- 
 ing class). 
 
 He wore a soft felt hat, a pink cravat, and a 
 checked suit of clothes. He would have made 
 a fine appearance on the outside boulevards, at 
 the hour when the gentlemen who wear caps 
 with three flaps walk abroad, for he had the 
 physique of a workman; he was not more 
 than twenty-five years of age, had a leaden 
 complexion and wore heart-breakers " plas- 
 tered on his sallow temples. What could M. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 31^. 
 
 de Chenerailles have to say to such a queer fel- 
 low ? Robert asked himself this question as 
 he brusquely left the path so as to avoid meet- 
 ing them face to face. 
 
 Although he had got out of the way so quick- 
 ly, he had seen the gentleman put a bank-note 
 into the hand of the blackguard, and then en- 
 ter his carriage which rolled rapidly toward 
 the Pont Neuf. 
 
 The man with the soft hat, after pocketing 
 the note, expressed his joy by executing a fling 
 which would have made a success in a ball of 
 the barriere and started off in the same direc- 
 tion as the coupe, without noticing Robert du 
 Plessis, whom he left behind. 
 
 Why did Robert immediately follow him ? 
 From mere curiosity, without any hope of sat- 
 isfying it, and even without knowing what he 
 should gain, if, by any chance, he should dis- 
 cover the motive of the clandestine relations 
 between the lord of Chenerailles and a street 
 loafer. 
 
32 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 At any other time, he would have thought 
 very little of this mystery. Of what impor- 
 tance was it to him that the person whom M. 
 Dauphin admired was a false lord?— the species 
 is not rare in Paris— or perhaps the mysterious 
 chief of some association of low fellows? He 
 had seen him for the first time on the jury 
 bench, and probably would never see him 
 again, although the upholsterer had said he was 
 well launched in fashionable society. 
 
 But this evening, disturbed by a series of 
 uuforeseen events and strange coincidences, 
 Robert du Plessis was disposed to be restive, 
 like a horse startled by the unexpected report 
 of a cannon. 
 
 He had reached the age of thirty without 
 having done any serious work or having any 
 serious thoughts. 
 
 He was the son of a grave magistrate and a 
 pious mother, who had died when he was very 
 young, and at his majority he found himself 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 33 
 
 master of a handsome fortune, which he spent 
 freely. 
 
 He knew no other law than his own fancy, 
 and the only tender sentiment which he had 
 experienced was inspired by the unfortunate 
 young girl wTio had been murdered in Mme. de 
 Noyal's park. He had never confessed this 
 sentiment to its object, and he believed that he 
 had concealed it so well that even- Mme. de 
 Noyal had not suspected it. 
 
 However that may have been, Raoul now 
 knew how it was, for Robert had allowed it to 
 escape him that he had thought of asking the 
 hand of Mile. Caristie. Raoul Vignemale, 
 broker by profession, and a gay fellow, would 
 willingly have told big stories of his matri- 
 monial designs: but he was incapable of be- 
 traying a secret, and if he thought about it at 
 all, would not think long. 
 
 Robert could not forget the poor, dead girl 
 so easily, and he longed to avenge her. Unoc- 
 cupied as he was, he had nothing better to do 
 
34 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 than to search for the assassin, for he was now 
 inclined to believe that the jury was not mis- 
 taken in acquitting the ac(:used, and he would 
 be very proud and very happy to find the real 
 criminal. It may have been a chimerical en- 
 terprise; but this v/as another reason why it 
 should tempt Robert, who, in spite of the scep- 
 ticism which he affected, had a strong tendency 
 to imitate the chevalier Don Quixote de la 
 Mancha, redresser of wrongs and seeker of 
 adventures. 
 
 The accident of two successive meetings 
 seemed to indicate a trail. M. Dauphin had 
 stopped him in the Palace yard to inform him 
 that Mme. de Noyal owed her release to this 
 foreman of the jury whom he had just surprised 
 talking familiarly with a man of suspicious ap- 
 pearance, on a deserted quay. 
 
 Robert's imagination supplied the rest. He 
 fancied that he held the end of a thread which 
 would lead to some interesting discoveries, and 
 meanwhile he put himself on the track of the 
 
THE MYSTORIOUS JUROR. 35 
 
 person v/ho had just received a bank-note as a 
 gratuity. 
 
 This was surely too much to give to a door 
 opener, and it might easily be supposed that it 
 had been given in payment for some important 
 service. 
 
 The rogue was going away with his nose in 
 the air and his hands in his pocket. Du Plessis, 
 who had never before followed anybody, ex- 
 cepting pretty women, kept a little too near 
 him, for he exposed himself to the danger of 
 being observed, an imprudence which a pro- 
 fessional detective would not have committed ; 
 but the man, having come out on the Pont 
 Neuf without turning round, ran after an om- 
 nibus which was passing, caught it while in 
 motion, and climbed nimbly upon the roof. 
 
 Robert did not hesitate to do the same, and 
 this time there was no risk, for the roofs are 
 free to all, so long as there is any room, and 
 there was still one place left just beside the 
 last passenger. 
 
36 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Robert could now examine him at his leis- 
 ■are, and he was sure of not losing trace of 
 him, for he had resolved to descend when his 
 neighbor did. 
 
 He was ignorant, however, where this pursuit 
 would lead him. He was not familiar with the 
 routes^ of the omnibuses, for he never used 
 them, and he would have been puzzled to guess 
 by what line he was traveling. 
 
 The omnibus was painted in dark green ; it 
 had red lanterns and went towards the right 
 bank of the Seine. He did not know anything 
 more about it, but he had already sacrificed his 
 evening, and was not sorry to go wherever the 
 man, whom he intended to keep in sight, 
 should lead. 
 
 He observed him stealthily, and the longer 
 he watched the less he doubted that this citi- 
 zen was a member of one of those social "cate- 
 gories upon which a recent law has imposed a 
 penalty— quite new to our code— the penalty 
 of banishment. To whatever place he might 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 37 
 
 be bound today, sooner or later, he would ar- 
 rive at Cayenne. 
 
 He had just foiled a cigarette which he 
 lighted by scratching a match upon his trous- 
 ers, and while smoking he would often feel in 
 the pocket of his vest, into'^which, in default 
 of a pocket-book, he had slipped the violet 
 bank-note with which the beautifully gloved 
 hand of the Marquis had so delighted him. 
 
 Doubtless, he was not accustomed to carry 
 in his vest-pocket paper of the Bank of France 
 and he did not wish to lose it. 
 
 He could not be called ugly, for his features 
 were regular, his eyes bright, and his figure 
 slender. But his face, faded before its time, 
 had an insolent and cunning expression. It 
 was the face of a man intelligent, audacious, 
 shrewd and ready for any kind of villainous 
 work. 
 
 Decidedly, the Marquis de Chenerailles had 
 a vicious acquaintance in this man, and Robert 
 du Plessis was not wrong in suspecting him. 
 
38 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 But he did not stop there, and he had a great 
 desire to make this pretty fellow talk, but he 
 was at a loss to know how to do this without 
 putting him on his guard. At last he took out 
 a cigar and asked him for a light. 
 
 **How then! with pleasure of course, my 
 lord,'' cried the young man, presenting the end 
 of his cigarette without removing it from his 
 mouth. The two faces almost touched one 
 another, and Robert noticed that his neighbor 
 took his face in at one glance, while saying: 
 **That London cigar smells very good. I shall 
 buy a package of them this evening." 
 
 Robert did not venture to offer him one, and 
 there was a brief silence. But the cigarette 
 smoker seemed anxious to chat, and soon con- 
 tinued: 
 
 I am able to treat myself to some of that 
 sort; I have done a good day's work. I have 
 just been at the trial of a woman of the upper 
 ten." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 39 
 
 "How was that?" said du Plessis, feigning 
 not to understand him. 
 
 "Yes — a Baroness. She was acquitted.'* 
 Robert had succeeded at the first attempt, 
 much better than he had hoped, for when he 
 asked his neighbor for a light, in order to en- 
 gage him in conversation, he had no idea that 
 he would talk without provocation ol Mme. de 
 Noyal. 
 
 This unexpected beginning put him at his 
 ease, and he was no longer afraid of being 
 suspected if he prolonged the conversation to 
 obtain further information on the subject. He 
 dissimulated his surprise and said with the 
 most natural air in the world: "Oh! yes — I 
 remember, the Baroness who murdered her 
 cousin. The papers have talked of nothing 
 else for the last three months. How! Did 
 they not bring her in guilty?" 
 
 "She had a hard time — an ordinary citizen 
 would have got harcj labor for life; but the 
 gouzesses of the upper ten always manage to get 
 
40 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 out of it. I should not have acquitted her, but 
 I am satisfied all the same, because th^curieux i 
 are made fools of. The avocat-becheur^ wdi^ an- 
 noyed—you ought to have seen him.*' 
 
 Although not very conversant with this argot, 
 du Plessis was too thorough a Parisian not to 
 know that, in the language of rogues, the judges 
 are called curieux, and that the avocat-becheur is 
 the public prosecutor. 
 
 This fellow was of the same opinion as the 
 upholsterer and if he had been sworn he would 
 not have voted with the noble personage who 
 had just greased his palm on the Quay de T 
 Horologe, a singularity to be noted. 
 
 **You were fortunate in being able to get in" 
 said Robert, careful not to contradict him. *'It 
 was pretended that tickets were sold as dear 
 as orchestra chairs at the opera." 
 
 " That is easily understood," said his neigh- 
 bor gravely: a_criminal case is like a first night 
 at the theater. It is necessary to maneuver a 
 
 z. Literally, inquisitive ones. 2. Advocate-digger. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 4I 
 
 little to secure reserved seats. I understand 
 that business. I have done it in my time — but 
 I looked on as I stood in Kne. I was at the 
 back of the room, but I could see very well. 
 She is blonde. For myself I like brunettes; 
 but you can't take blondes like her up by the 
 shovelful. She has eyes I can tell you. She 
 will have no trouble to get married again — arid 
 besides she is very well off." 
 
 How did he know that Mme. de Noyal was 
 a rich widow? Through the papers perhaps, 
 but more probably through M. de Chenerailles, 
 thought du Plessis, and he congratulated him- 
 self that he had followed this rogue. 
 
 Thus far he heard nothing of any significance, 
 but he did not despair of hearing more by 
 listening to the chatter of this fellow. He 
 shrank from questioning him, for that would be 
 putting himself on familiar terms all at once, 
 and he had not decided to go so far as that. 
 He preferred to listen, while limiting himself 
 to keeping up the talk. 
 \ 
 
42 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "Yes/' said he, "she has a large fortune it 
 appears.'* 
 
 "A hundred thousand francs a year! that 
 would keep me in boots. If I had that much I 
 could slip along smoothly. I have'nt, but I 
 have nothing to complain of," continued the 
 man, plunging his fingers 'into his vest-pocket 
 to be sure that the note was still there. 
 "Then business is good?" asked Robert. 
 "Oh! it has its ups-and-downs. I have done 
 well to-day. I have bread on the shelf and I 
 have an idea that I shall soon have some butter 
 to put on it." 
 
 He counts on a repetition of the perquisites, 
 thought Robert. 
 
 And he had no doubt that this equivocal 
 individual was in the pay of M. de Chenerailles. 
 What could have been the service he had per- 
 formed for the defender of the Baroness? 
 Robert could not guess, but he was only the 
 more anxious to push the inquiry which was so 
 well begun. It was evident that the man with 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 43 
 
 the soft hat had no idea that his fellow-traveler 
 had seen him pocket a royal pour-boirer ior: if 
 he had suspected it he would not have made 
 any allusion to the gift, nor boasted of expect- 
 ing others. Robert could; therefore, advance a 
 little farther without any risk of being mis- 
 trusted. 
 
 ''Do you operate at the Bourse?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, sometimes,'* responded his neighbor, 
 visibly flattered at being taken for a speculator 
 or even 'd.remisies, '*but that is too risky, one 
 has to drink bubbles too often, and I like my 
 own profession better— I am a commercial 
 broker." 
 
 *' That is safer." 
 
 "Oh! It is not always what I should like, 
 but I have just put my hands on a good client 
 and that will be all right. Are you in business?" 
 
 "No, I live on my income." 
 
 "Oh! that would suit me; unfortunately my 
 father forgot to leave me any income. I am 
 not any the wprse off for that, and it does not 
 
44 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 prevent my enjoying myself when I am in 
 funds. I am going up to the Butte this even- 
 ing, as you see.'* 
 
 Robert understood what Butte he was speak- 
 ing of, and he was not sorry to know that the 
 omnibus was going to Montmartre. 
 
 *'That is the best place there is to enjoy ones- 
 self. Are you going up to the old Butte?" 
 asked his amiable neighbor. 
 
 "I am going to see one of my friends, who is 
 a painter and lives there,'' Robert hastened to 
 reply, delighted to have found a pretext for 
 going to the end of the route, without arousing 
 the suspicions of the self-styled commercial 
 broker. 
 
 '^Painters, the place is full of them, and I 
 know some who are good zigs — my sister is a 
 model, and I used to pose in the studios some- 
 times." 
 
 Du Plessis knew some artists also, but he 
 could not dream of asking them for informa- 
 tion of a man whose name he did not know. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 45 
 
 He resolved to come back sometime and stroll 
 about Montmartre with the friends he had 
 there, and he did not despair of meeting him. 
 pointing him out to them and thus learning the 
 truth about this singular broker. Meanwhile 
 the heavy carriage was approaching the end of 
 the rou^e. It had stopped at the Place de la 
 Bourse, then in the Rue de Chateaudun, and 
 was now mounting the steep Rue des Martyrs. 
 
 The two men alone remained on the roof 
 of the omnibus, and they had stopped talking, 
 Robert from fear of saying too much, the other, 
 perhaps, because he was afraid that he had said 
 quite enough. The difficult moment for Robert 
 was approaching. It was a question how he 
 could keep his man in sight, when he should 
 have set his foot on the ground, and how to 
 follow him without being seen. It was not an 
 easy thing to do, but it cost nothing to try. 
 
 The omnibus stopped in front of the coach 
 office, near the fountain in the middle of the 
 Place Pigalle. 
 
46 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "Here we are," said the neighbor rising 
 quickly, am not sorry that we have arrived, 
 for it makes one awfully hungry and still more 
 thirsty, I am going to fill up in good style and 
 drain a bottle or two. Good luck to you, my 
 prince." 
 
 And, without waiting for any response, he 
 tumbled down without even touching the steps. 
 
 Du Plessis, before descending, saw him direct 
 his steps towards a large house on the corner 
 of the boulevard on the other side of the square. 
 
 He knew this house, which was lighted from 
 top to bottom, for he had once breakfasted 
 there; he knew that it was the most popular 
 restaurant in the quarter, and he was glad that 
 the man was going to dine there, for he would 
 not have dared to enter a low-class eating- 
 house behind him, while he could dine at the 
 Abbaye de Theleme" without causing remark. 
 His neighbor of the outside would not be sur- . 
 prised to see him there, and Robert felt that he 
 would not try to renew the conversation. He 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. " 47 
 
 would watch the man from a distance while he 
 was dining, and prepare to finish at the same 
 time and go out immediately behind him; for 
 he had decided to follow him until he should 
 know where he lodged. 
 
 Once started, Robert did not stop, even when 
 on a perilous road, any more than does a hunter 
 who has just started a hare hesitate to go 
 through thickets bristling with th6rns. 
 
 The game which he was pursuing had just 
 disappeared on the staircase of the restaurant 
 whose Rabelesque sign was displayed in Gothic 
 letters on a brick facade. 
 
 Robert lost no time in entering after him. 
 
 There was a cafe on the ground floor,. but the 
 man had not stopped there, and Robert found 
 him installed in the back of the large salon on 
 the first floor. 
 
 Many of the tables were already occupied, 
 and Robert was looking for a place favorable 
 to his designs, when he saw an artist of his 
 acquaintance who had just seated himself near 
 
48 ^ THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 the door, immediately opposite the suspect, 
 and who perceiving him, cried: 
 
 **What, you here? What luck! You must 
 dine with me; sit down right there, my friend!" 
 
 Du Plessis needed no urging, and he could 
 not have chosen a better place, for his man 
 could not go out without passing quite near 
 him. 
 
 **What good wind blew you to our moun- 
 tain?" asked the painter, whose name was 
 Cadornac. 
 
 **My dear fellow," responded du Plessis 
 gaily, " I should find it difficult to explain it to 
 you. Just fancy that the idea suddenly came 
 to me to jump into an omnibus, without know- 
 ing whither it was going. It dropped me at 
 Jlace Pigalle."_ 
 
 •'I bless that omnibus, for I see you too sel- 
 dom; and now that I have you, I am not going 
 to let go of you all the evening. When we 
 leave here I will show you the curiosities of the 
 quarter, from the Chat Noir to the Elysee Mont- 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 49 
 
 martre, passing the Moulin Rouge. You will 
 not be bored, I promise you.'' 
 
 **I am never bored in your company/* said 
 Robert politely. 
 
 He meant what he said, for he appreciated 
 his friend at his full value. Pierre Cadornac 
 was a talented artist, a sensible and polite man 
 and a jolly companion. He asked nothing bet- 
 ter than to be his guest; only, he mentally 
 reserved the right to resume his liberty after 
 dinner. He sat down to the table, and did 
 honor to the cooking of the *'Abbaye de 
 Theleme," at the same time keeping watch, 
 from the corner of his eye, of his former 
 neighbor, who noticed no one, so occupied was 
 he in filling and emptying his glass: 
 
 "You see that we are not in the Cafe 
 And ais,*' said Cadornac laughing. "The com- 
 pany is very much mixed here as you see — not 
 a few good citizens with their wives, more or 
 less legitimate — over there are some pupils of 
 a school of sculpture on the Boulevard Clichy 
 
50 'THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 who have come here to regale themselves, for 
 a novelty — farther on, to our right, the femi- 
 nine element is brilliantly represented by the 
 fine flower of the frequenters of the Circus 
 Fernando — you and I represent the ton — it is 
 complete." 
 
 *'And very amusing," added du Plessis. 
 **Theman opposite us is a veritable type — that 
 fellow with his hat on his head and who has on 
 such a pretty pink cravat." 
 
 **0h! he does not come here very often, but 
 a fellow of that kind can only be seen in this 
 quarter — that one is one of the celebrities of 
 the Butte — he is the illustrious, the incom- 
 parable, the only Fil-de-Soie," 
 
 "This is the first time I have ever heard of 
 this illustrious person. To what does Mr. 
 Fil-de-Soie owe his notoriety?" asked Robert 
 smiling. 
 
 " Oh !" said Cadornac, it has not yet reached 
 the grand boulevards. He owes it to his 
 talent as a dancer." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 5 1 
 
 '*At the Opera?'' 
 
 **No,and I think his dancing would not have 
 any success there, but he is without a rival at 
 Montmartre7 The stars of the fancy-dance 
 carry him off. Nini Patte-en-rair goes mad 
 over him^ the Goulue will have no other 
 partner^'' 
 
 **That is an honor which he ought to be 
 proud of. Has he no other business than to 
 use his legs?'' 
 
 *'I know of no other— and I assure you that 
 he makes a good living at it— but as he dances 
 only in the evening, I suppose that he follows 
 some trade in the day time if only to keep out 
 of the way of the police who pick a quarrel 
 very willingly with people who have no pro- 
 fession." 
 
 Robert might have told his friend that Fil- 
 de- Soie pretended to be a commercial broker, 
 but he contented himself by saying carelessly. 
 
 **He must live on the Butte." 
 Or in the neighborhood, if he have any 
 
52 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 home— and I doubt it very iriuch— he does not 
 dwell— he perches, it is for people like him that 
 furnished lodgings were invented, and the 
 quarter abounds in them/' 
 
 "The devil," thought Robert, "I shall have 
 trouble to find out anything about him from 
 his concierge." 
 
 **But,'' continued Cadornac, " he is sure to be 
 found, every evening from nine o'clock till 
 midnight, at the Moulin-Rouge or at the 
 Elysee— and if you are curious to see him kick 
 about you are in luck— there is a grand fete 
 to-night at the Moulin Rouge— it is only two 
 steps from here and I will accompany you, 
 when we have finished our dinner." 
 
 should like to go," said Robert, who had no 
 reason for refusing now that he knew some- 
 thing of the habits of Fil-de-Soie. 
 
 He was not obliged to conceal himself any 
 further, for Fil-de-Soie would not be surprised 
 to see the gentleman with whom he had trav- 
 eled, at a public ball which everybody attended. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 53 
 
 Robert did not expect to gain anything more 
 this evening, but he was satisfied to know 
 where he could find him again, and he was not 
 unwilling to witness his choregraphic exercises. 
 
 He had begun to consider the incidents 
 which had disturbed his mind, with more cool- 
 ness, and to think that the colloquy on the 
 Quay de 1 Horologe might be very simply ex- 
 plained. 
 
 It did not follow, because the foreman of the 
 jury paid money to a rascal like Fil-de-Soie, 
 that the relations between them had any con- 
 nection with the criminal case which had just 
 been tried. 
 
 These relations, of course, did the Marquis 
 no credit, but there was more than one way of 
 explaining them, for Fil-de-Soie, a public 
 dancer, could be useful in many ways to a man 
 who was looking for easy conquests. Robert,- 
 however, had not entirely changed his firsti 
 opinion. He could still see, indistinctly 
 through the obscurity, some complicated web, 
 
54 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 and while acknowledging that he might be 
 mistaken, he did not forget M. de Chenerailles 
 and his acquaintance with a person who was 
 game for the police. Only he was no longer 
 in such a hurry to clear up the mystery. 
 
 Fil-de-Soie took no notice of him although 
 he saw him perfectly, but emptied his second 
 bottle of wine, which bore a red seal and must 
 have been a kind of Burgundy, and ate with 
 frightful ardor without considering the conse- 
 quences of his Pantagruelic feast. 
 
 He carried good sail, as sailors say, and 
 unlike tenors who cannot sing if they dine 
 before going on the stage, he never danced 
 better than after drinking. 
 
 When he asked for his bill, Robert and 
 Cadornac were at their coffee. 
 
 Robert noticed that he paid with the bank- 
 note and that it was a note of five hundred 
 francs; this he ascertained when the waiter 
 returned the change on a plate. M. de 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 55 
 
 Chenerailles recompensed generously the peo* 
 pie who served him. 
 
 After pocketing the louis and the small bills 
 with an air as indifferent as if he had been 
 accustomed to carry so large a sum about him, 
 Fil-dc-Soie went out of the room without look- 
 ing at any one. 
 
 **He seems to be rolling in gold/* said du 
 Plessis under his breath. 
 
 "It is only the base professions that pay" 
 replied Cadornac, philosophically. " But it is 
 not far from ten o^clock — the quadrille of the 
 celebrities is about to commence. Let us go 
 to see Fil-de-Soie at work," 
 
 Nearly all the people had left The gay 
 talk of the painter had prolonged the repast, 
 much to Robert's satisfaction, for he had not 
 wished to leave the place before the man 
 whom he was watching. The two friends went 
 out upon the square and walked towards the 
 ball-room ^ich had been recently opened in 
 the place of a. less popular one. . i 
 
56 THE MYSTERIOUS )UROR. 
 
 A colossal mill with colored glasses whose 
 sparkling fans turned without cessation, indi- 
 cated from a distance the entrance to this new 
 Eden, which had been created by an intelligent 
 director who knew how to attract the dis- 
 tinguished public from the Jardin de Paris and 
 other fashionable resorts. 
 
 Robert du Plessis had been there before, but 
 he had always come in a carriage, and was sur- 
 prised to see the boulevard which led to it, 
 almost as lively at this time of night 
 as the Boulevard des Italiens. The peo- 
 ple were of a different class and the street 
 was less brilliantly lighted ; but it was livelier, 
 more stirring, that is to say gayer. Cadornac 
 took it for a text and praised the delights of 
 this eccentri^ quarter, where the cafes are not 
 closed until two o'clock in the morning, and 
 he laughed at Robert, who referred to certain 
 nocturnal assaults of which he had read in the 
 papers- 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 57 
 
 Assaults, never !" affirmed the artist; ''noth- 
 ing more than drunken quarrels. I would not 
 be afraid to walk here all night with a hundred 
 thousand francs in my pocket book." 
 
 Robert took his word for it and they fol- 
 lowed the crowd which was besieging the 
 doors. This was the time for the fashionable 
 tide, as the morning is for the cavaliers and 
 amazons in the Bois de Boulogne. 
 
 Well-appointed coupes stopped in front of 
 the large door illuminated a giovTto, and 
 deposited upon the pavement, not only elegant 
 women of a certain class, but also many club- 
 men with flowers in their buttonholes. 
 
 Robert was not astonished, for he knew that 
 the Moulin-Rouge was the fashion, but he was 
 stupefied when he saw the gentleman of the 
 Quay de V Horologe get out of one of the 
 carriages. 
 
 A man who has been on a jury, however, 
 surely has a right to amuse himself at a ball, 
 aifter sitting all day, above dXi when he has not 
 
58 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 condemned the accused — which was the case 
 in this instance. To cap the climax, this juror 
 saluted Pierre Cadornac, in passing, and the 
 artist returned the salute with warmth. 
 
 **Do you know that gentleman?" quickly 
 asked du Plessis. 
 
 "Not very v/ell, do you?" 
 
 "No, I only know his name. He is called 
 the Marquis de Chencrailles." 
 
 "I did not know that he was a Marquis, but 
 I know that he is very rich. I painted his por- 
 trait last year, during the exposition, and he 
 paid me royally." 
 
 "So you went to his house?" 
 
 "No, he came to mine; but if it is of any 
 interest to you I will tell you that he lives at 
 No. 19 Rue Galilee.*' 
 
 "I do not car^e anything about it," du Plessis 
 hastened to say, for he did not wish his friend 
 to understand the situation. 
 
 " His portrait was a success at the last salon," 
 said Cadornac. "I did not deserve much 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. $9 
 
 credit, for the gentleman has a very striking- 
 face— he has the look of a Fra Diavolo.'* 
 blonde Diavolo then." 
 
 ''That is true— he is a blonde — he borders on 
 the red — but he has the eyes of a bird of prey. 
 I never get tired of studying those eyes when 
 I meet them at the Moulin-Rouge— he comes 
 there quite often— and I suspect that he comes 
 to see the women." 
 
 This was quite probable, and admitting that 
 the Marquis employed Fil-de Soie in some 
 private work, it could hardly be supposed that 
 he would give him an interview in a public 
 place. 
 
 Robert told himself also that he should have 
 less trouble in getting information concerning 
 this gentleman than of a nomad without hearth 
 or home. ^ 
 
 He felt that the evening had not been lost, 
 for he now knew the address of M. de Chene- 
 railles. In time, and as well known as he was, 
 Robert would surely be able to obtain mora 
 
60 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 exact information. So, for this night he could 
 suspend the pursuit of both. He would remain 
 an hour at the Moulin-Rouge to see the 
 attractions, after which there would be nothing 
 to hinder his going quietly to bed, reserving 
 the pursuit for the next day, if it should seem 
 best. 
 
 He entered arm in arm with Cadornac, who 
 led him directly to the immense hall where 
 the dancing was going on. 
 
 The ball was at its height. Fifty couples 
 rushed madly about, urged by the loud blare 
 of the brass instruments and surrounded by a 
 triple row of enthusiastic spectators. 
 
 It took the two friends some time to push 
 their way to the favored quadrilles in which 
 figured the principal members of a ballet corps 
 who had not taken lessons of M. Merantc of 
 the Grand Opera;>Rayon d' Or, ^Etoile Filante, 
 ^Grille d* Egout,^LaGoulueand others less illus- 
 trious; but they arrived at the psychological 
 
 { Oolden Ray. 2 Falling Star. 3 Sewer Grating. 4 The Glutton^ 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 6l 
 
 moment in which La Goulue was executing a 
 step impassible to describe: there were leaps 
 Kke a mad goat, inversions of the body which 
 made one fear that she was going to break in 
 two, and flights of skirts which completely 
 dazzled the eyes. 
 
 The spectators stamped their feet in joy. It 
 was soon the turn of Fil-de-Soie to come on 
 the stage to dance a pas seul, and Robert saw 
 at once that Cadornac had not over-praised 
 the talent of this King of the Moulin-Rouge. 
 
 Fil-de-Soie had a dance of his own, a dance 
 which distinguished him from the jumpers 
 hired by the administration to dislocate them- 
 selves. He could do with his body whatever 
 he pleased, just as they could, but his features 
 were as mobile as his joints, and he accompa- 
 nied his contortions with expressions of the 
 face and gestures whose significance escaped 
 Robert de Flessis. 
 
 Thus he imitated the motions of a man 
 who counts crowns with one hand, and with 
 
62 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 the other he restrained the beatings of his 
 heart, raising his eyes to heaven at the same 
 time. 
 
 The gallery understood, perhaps, for it 
 writhed with laughter, whilst Robert wondered 
 to whom this pantomime was addressed. 
 
 As he passed the spectators in review, he 
 saw M. de Chenerailles in the first row. Was 
 Fil-de-Soie, by his attitudes, thanking this 
 gentleman for having given him a note of five 
 hundred francs? Robert was tempted to think 
 so. But soon Fil-de-Soie changed his mimicry. 
 Without ceasing to twist his legs, he stretched 
 out his head and struck the nape of his neck 
 with the side of his hand, imitating, no doubt, 
 the fall of the axe on the neck of a condemned 
 person. 
 
 Bravo," crjed a voice, that is the guillo- 
 tine step, by persuasion." "Vive Fil-de-Soie!" 
 shouted the spectators. Fil-de-Soie stopped 
 suddenly, took his head between his hands 
 and made believe to throw himself at the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 63 
 
 feet of M. de Chenerailles, who was not look- 
 ing at him, for just at that moment he was 
 complimenting a pretty danseuse who was 
 very close to him. 
 
 The quadrille was over. Some mad fellows 
 proposed to carry Fil-de-Soie and La Goulue 
 off in triumph. 
 
 The couple stole away at the suggestion, but 
 there was a rush which broke the circle and 
 separated the two friends. 
 
 Robert had considerable trouble in extrica- 
 ting himself, and, when he had succeeded, he 
 found himself among people whom he did not 
 know. 
 
 M. de Chenerailles, as well as M. Cadornac, 
 had disappeared. 
 
 Nothing more was lacking to cool the ardor 
 of Robert du Plessis and give another direction 
 to his thoughts. 
 
 He knew that he should gain nothing by 
 remaining any longer at the ball^he had smn 
 enough to convince him that Fil-dc~Soie and 
 
64 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 M. de Chenerailles were acquainted and the 
 confusion had disgusted him with watching 
 them. 
 
 To the devil with all these people!" he 
 growled as he went toward the door. 
 
 *4 will go to see Cadornac to-morrow and he 
 will excuse me for leaving him. In the mean- 
 while I will go home and go to bed." 
 
 He longed to get away, but he was dying of 
 thirst. 
 
 After crossing the large hall, he sat down at 
 an empty table in a corner of the vestibule 
 opening into the grand entrance of the build- 
 ing. He called for a glass of iced lemonade, 
 which he paid for before drinking, without 
 observing three individuals who were drinking 
 punch beside him and who could see that his 
 pocket-book was well filled. Robert was too 
 pre-occupied to notice his neighbors. He had 
 soon swallowed the refreshing beverage and 
 left the place without perceiving that the 
 punch drinkers had risen at the same time. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 65 
 
 On his way out he met a number of late com- 
 ers, and, as soon as he was outside, he hastened 
 to cross the boulevard to be out of the way of 
 the crowd which blocked up the approach to 
 the Moulin Rouge. 
 
 The fresh air calmed his spirits. 
 
 Du Plessis lived on the Avenue Percier at 
 the corner of the Rue de la Boetie. He had 
 only to go down the Rue Blanche as far as the 
 Place de la Trinite and then walk up the 
 Boulevard Haussman. The distance was not 
 great and the weather was fine for walking. 
 
 The Place Blanche was brilliantly lighted, but 
 the Rue Blanche was dark, for the nocturnal 
 liveliness so much boasted of by Cadornac 
 did not extend much beyond the Boulevard 
 Clichy. 
 
 Higher up on the Butte, it is almost deserted; 
 toward Paris there is the bourgeois quiet of a 
 small village of capitalists who go to bed 
 early. 
 
66 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 It was not yet midnight, and the passers-by- 
 were already becoming rare. The merchants 
 had closed their shops, and the silence of this 
 solitary way seemed the more profound after 
 the noise of the boulevard. 
 
 Robert did not observe the contrast. He 
 went straight on grazing the houses on the left 
 and recalling the scenes of this eventful even- 
 ing. 
 
 The more he reflected, the more he was con- 
 vinced that he had exaggerated the importance 
 of the succession of facts, independent eacU 
 of the other, and that he had been the dupe 
 of his own imagination. 
 
 There was nothing positive in it all, except- 
 ing the acquittal of Mme. de Noyal. 
 
 He could not be sorry for that, and now the 
 only thing for him to decide was whether he 
 would see her again. 
 
 Now he had all the time to think about it, 
 and he said to himself that night brings coun- 
 sel. 
 
THE_ MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 67 
 
 At the upper end of the Rue Mansait, which 
 cuts the Rue Blanche obliquely, he was jostled 
 by two men who passed by him and were soon 
 out of sight, for they walked much faster than 
 he. A moment after he crossed the Rue Chap- 
 tal and continued on his way, and when he had 
 reached the half-open gate of the Cite Gaillard 
 he had the intuition that some one was follow- 
 ing him. 
 
 He did not hear him; he felt it and he was 
 in the act of turning around, when a strap was 
 thrown around his neck from behind after 
 grazing his face. Lifted from the ground by a 
 violent push, he lost his footing and remained 
 suspended on the back of his assailant, but he 
 did not lose consciousness immediately, for 
 he could hear the man who held him say: 
 
 "Go through him quick! there is a carriage 
 coming.'* 
 
 Robert could even feel the hands which were 
 fumbling in his pockets; then, suffocated by 
 the strap, he ceased to think and was no longer 
 
68 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 conscious of what was happening to him. 
 When he regained his senses, shocked by the 
 fall on the pavement, he comprehended that 
 the scoundrels who had just robbed him had 
 let him fall so that they might escape. And, 
 on opening his eyes, he saw bending over him, 
 a gentleman who had hold of his hands to help 
 him to rise. Robert with his help was soon on 
 his feet. 
 
 **Are you wounded, monsieur," asked the 
 generous unknown. 
 
 And, as Robert still quite giddy, did not re- 
 ply immediately, he resumed quickly: 
 
 "Surely I am not mistaken— I met you at 
 the door of the Moulin Rouge. You were with 
 M. Cadornac.'' 
 
 **Yes, it was I," stammered Robert. 
 
 "Then I am more fortunate than I thought, 
 since I have been of service to a friend of an 
 artist whom I highly esteem, and who is very 
 congenial to me.'' 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 69 
 
 At these words, Robert, who had now come 
 to himself, recognized his deliverer. He owed 
 his life to M. de Chenerailles, and this last ad- 
 * venture was not the least extraordinary of all 
 which he had experienced since he had left the 
 the Hall of Assizes. 
 
 "Unfortunately, I arrived too late to prevent 
 the miserable scoundrels from robbing you," 
 continued the marquis, and they had time to 
 get out of the way. I had just put my Head 
 out of the window to tell the coachman to 
 hurry, when I saw them attack you. They 
 used what they call the * stroke of Father 
 Francis.' One holds you on his back and the 
 others rob you.'* 
 
 "I believe that they have really left me 
 nothing; but I do not complain, for they might 
 have killed me — and but for you, sir, they cer- 
 tainly would. I do not know how to thank 
 you." 
 
 "Thank me for what? I have done just 
 what you would have done in my place. J 
 
70 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 happened to be passing through the Rue 
 Blanche at the moment when the villains at- 
 tacked you. If you owe gratitude to anybody 
 it is to my coachman, who took this route in- 
 stead of following the outer boulevard to take 
 me to the Rue Galilee where I live. But after 
 such a shock, you are in no^ condition for walk- 
 ing, and you must permit me to take you home 
 in my carriage. Where do you live?'' 
 
 This was said so naturally that Robert could 
 not refuse, and besides he had great need of 
 aid, for he felt the effect of his fall and would 
 have found it difficult to walk to the Avenue 
 Percier. 
 
 He gave his address, and without making 
 any apologies, got into M. de Cheneraille's 
 coupe. 
 
 A moment after, these gentlemen were roll- 
 ing along, seated side by side as if they were 
 a pair of dear friends. 
 
 When du Plessis had surprised the marquis 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR* ^\ 
 
 in conference with Fil-de-Soie, he did not fore- 
 see that a few hours later he would be riding 
 home in his carriage. Everything comes to 
 pass. 
 
 And du Plessis, who generally went from 
 one extreme to the other, no longer mis- 
 trusted this gentleman whom he had suspected 
 of gross misdemeanors. 
 
 Carried away by an impulse of gratitude he 
 came very near disclosing all that he had 
 thought of him, and asking pardon for having 
 taken him to be an associate of Fil-de-Soie. 
 
 If he did not make this confession, it was 
 because he was restrained by a laudable scru- 
 ple; it would have led them to talk of the Court 
 of Assizes, of the upholsterer and of the 
 Baroness. 
 
 He was reluctant to approach this subject, 
 now that he had begun to believe in the inno- 
 cence of Mme. de Noyal. 
 
 He limited himself, therefore, to the expres- 
 sion of the wish that he might soon again see 
 
72 THE' MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 his deliverer, to telling his own name, and ask- 
 ing his, which he was supposed not to know. 
 M. de Chenerailles responded to these over- 
 tures by handing his card to Robert and say- 
 ing that he would come the next day to hear 
 how he was. To which du Plessis replied that 
 it was his place to go to thank him. This ex- 
 change of courtesies made up the conversation 
 during the journey, which was not a long one, 
 for the marquis' horse went like the wind. 
 
 These gentlemen seemed to be agreed not 
 to go beyond polite trifles and, no doubt, each 
 had his reasons for holdinghimself on his guard. 
 
 When the carriage stopped in front of Rob- 
 ert's house, the marquis alighted first, rang the 
 bell and carried his consideration so far as to 
 offer his arm to Robert to go up the stairs. But 
 as he had no further need of assistance, he re- 
 fused this obliging offer and they separated 
 after exchanging a shake of the hand. 
 
 " AH is well that ends well," says the proverb. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 73 
 
 and the evening which had begun so badly, 
 could not have ended better. 
 
 On entering his apartment, a comfortable 
 entresol, Robert experienced the satisfaction 
 of a hunter who finds a good lodging after the 
 emotions and fatigues of a long chase. His 
 servant was waiting for him. He sent him 
 away and was not long in getting to bed; but 
 sleep did not come at once. The scenes 
 through which he had passed came back like a 
 dream. A bad dream too, for they recalled 
 the memory of Jeanne Cariste whom he had 
 loved. 
 
 He thought abo of his future relations with 
 Mme. de Noyal. He certainly owed her a 
 visit, and he resolved to tell her what this juror 
 whom she did not know, had done for her, and 
 whom he now reproached himself for having 
 so inconsiderately suspected. 
 
 This done he would resume his accustomed 
 course, and would soon forgets the gloomy 
 drama, which, as he believed, had closed with 
 
74 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 the acquittal of Mmc. de Noyal. He did not 
 suspect that the drama was just beginning and 
 that he should see many others grow out of this. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Six months have passed. 
 
 The criminal trial which filled the public 
 mind at the close of the last autumn has taken 
 its place among celebrated cases, but the 
 heroine of this ^judicial drama is no longer 
 remembered. It is always so in Paris, where 
 the present dominates everything. It is only 
 in the provinces that they know how to remem- 
 ber. Mme. de Noyal does not complain that 
 she is forgotten, and she has done what she 
 could to effect this. The day after the verdict 
 she went to Pisa to spend the winter, where 
 she only met hurried tourists and English in- 
 valids. In the spring she returned to France 
 and secluded herself in her villa at Chatenay 
 near Sceaux, where she now lives. 
 
 During her voluntary exile in Italy she gave 
 no sign of life to any one but Robert du Plessis, 
 and the first letter she wrote to him was a 
 
76 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 master-piece. She found the exact terms in 
 which to declare her innocence and wrote that 
 she had suffered less from the iniquitous charge 
 than from the frightful death of her young 
 cousin Jeanne Caristie. 
 
 Robert began by doubting the innocence of 
 the Baroness, but he was convinced of it at the 
 end. This letter touched him and he answered 
 it. The correspondence was continued and 
 since the return of Mme. de Noyal he has 
 visited her assiduously at her country house 
 where she receives no one else. 
 
 Robert thinks no more of his first mistress 
 than he does of the ancient Odyssey, and the 
 chimeras which he conjured up, after these ad- 
 ventures, have ceased to haunt his mind. 
 
 He has exchanged one visit with M. de 
 Chenerailles, but they have formed no ties. 
 They salute when they meet in the Bois or at 
 the theatre, but they have never yet met in any 
 parlor or club room. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 77 
 
 And Robert knows no more of this gentle- 
 man than he knew on the day whpn he made 
 his acquaintance. He is still limited to the 
 very summary information of the upholsterer 
 and the artist Cadornac. 
 
 He has never since entered the Moulin- 
 Rouge and it was not there that he again saw 
 Fil-de-Soie. It was under the colonnade of 
 the Bourse, that he saw him passing from 
 group to group with note-book and pencil in 
 his hand. Fil-de-Soie has become a broker. 
 All roads lead to Rome. He does not dance 
 " the guillotine step by persuasion" any longer. 
 The Goulue weeps for her favorite cavalier. 
 
 When Robert sometimes recalls the inci- 
 dentswhich preceded and followed the informal 
 quadrille one evening in November, he con- 
 cludes that he was deceived in thinking he saw 
 on the Quay de 1' Horologe, M. de Chenerailles 
 who came to his rescue in so timely a manner 
 at the corner of the Cite Gaillard, 
 
78 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Fii-de-Soie, too, does not remember that he 
 sat beside him on the imperial of the omnibus, 
 for he never looks at him when he comes 
 across him at the Bourse, where Robert goes 
 every day. 
 
 Urged by his friend Raoul Vignemale, Robert 
 speculates in stocks and as he commenced by 
 making money, he has acquired a taste for the 
 game, which is infinitely more dangerous than 
 baccarat. But he was caught in the decline, 
 which came quickly ; he loses every day and 
 he has not the resolution to stop. 
 
 Then, in order to console himself, or rather 
 to divert his thoughts, as soon as the bell an- 
 nounces the close of operations, Robert hastens 
 to Ghatenay. He finds no pleasure anywhere 
 else, and instead of spending his Sundays at 
 the club as formerly, he passes them all at 
 Chatenay. 
 
 His friends wonder why he has changed his 
 mode of life. Some believe that he is ruined ; 
 others suspect him of being in love. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 79 
 
 They are mistaken. Robert^ is not in love 
 yet, but it 'is not impossible that he may soon 
 be in that condition, for he does not perceive 
 the perils which threaten his heart and his 
 fortune. 
 
 He always hopes that the next settlement 
 will restore what he has lost. The only woman 
 whom he ever wished to marry is dead, and he 
 does not dream of engaging himself to another 
 either from a good motive or a bad one. 
 
 He goes to Chatenay every day to talk of 
 the one he loved. He talks sometimes of the 
 accusation which has unsettled the life of 
 Mme. de Noyal ; but Jeanne Caristie's name is 
 often spoken in their conversations, and the 
 Baroness never speaks it without her eyes 
 filling with tears. 
 
 Robert has confessed to her that he had a 
 tender feeling for Mile. Caristie and Mme. de 
 Noyal has gently reproached him for not hav- 
 ing declared himself. He has also told her 
 about the chief of the jury who brought about 
 
80 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 her acquittal, and without telling her how he 
 became acquainted with him, he asked if she 
 would like to have him presented to her. She 
 declined the proposal and seemed only moder- 
 ately touched by the service which M. de 
 Chenerailles had rendered her. ~ 
 
 Robert soon found that this was not an 
 agreeable subject for the Baroness and did not 
 again refer to it. 
 
 She prefers to hear him talk of the fetes 
 which she used to give in her hotel in the Rue 
 Murillo, of the cotillions which she led so 
 grandly, and of the cavalcades when, in fine 
 weather, he rode by her side in the pretty 
 woods of Verrieres. 
 
 There is no one but him to recall these 
 happy days to her, for the people whom she 
 used to entertain do not know that she is at 
 her villa of Chatenay. Her old servants left 
 her when she was arrested, and she has taken 
 back only one woman— the woman who was 
 Jeanne's governess and who was a witness at 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 8 1 
 
 the trial. She testified, however, only to insig- 
 nificant facts, for she was not at Chatenay on 
 the day of the crime. 
 
 The Baroness brought a lady's maid and a 
 footman with her from Italy, These know 
 nothing of the past, except what they have 
 learned from the inhabitants of the village of 
 Chatenay. The cook came from an intelli- 
 gence office and the garden is taken care of by 
 a man who does not lodge at the villa. 
 
 Mme. de Noyal has all new servants and she 
 is wise, since she is going to begin a new life. 
 Retirement, silence and oblivion are necessary 
 for her. Robert approves this and Robert suf- 
 fices, if not to console her, at least to distract 
 her mind from her troubles. She lives with- 
 out any plans for she knows that women strug- 
 gle and that God leads them. 
 
 Robert, who is as much of a fatalist as she, 
 lets himself go with the current of the new 
 existence without asking whither it is carrying 
 them both. 
 
 6 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 They were still at the same point, when, on 
 the first Sunday of the month of May, Robert 
 du Plessis arrived at the gate of Rose Villa. 
 Winter and neglect had killed the rose-bushes, 
 but the name remained in golden letters on 
 the pediment of the door. Robert had walked 
 from the station and the way had seemed 
 short. The chestnuts were about to bloom^ 
 the lilacs were in flower, and the birds were 
 singing in the tall trees. The April settle- 
 ment had not been bad and Robert, free from 
 the cares which often disturbed him at the 
 end of the month, enjoyed to the full this 
 marvelous spring day which he intended to 
 spend with Mme. de Noyal. 
 
 He did not take the trouble to ring, for he 
 knew that the porter's lodge was vacant. He 
 pushed on the half-open gate and entering 
 ' thought of the time when brilliant equipages 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 83 
 
 brought the invited guests to the chateau. 
 Now there were no liveried lackeys to wait for 
 them at the foot of the perron ; no Percheron 
 horses to bring them from the station. The 
 Baroness sold her horses and carriages, when 
 she discharged her servants. The stables and 
 coach-houses are empty. 
 
 Mme. de Noyal understands that the Villa 
 of Roses, stained by crime, cannot be opened 
 for fetes and Robert du Plessis approves her 
 conduct, for it shows that she has some heart 
 and spirit. 
 
 Robert was accustomed to go through the 
 gate without being announced, to cross the 
 principal court, and to enter at the ground 
 floor of the villa, where he usually found some- 
 one to speak to: sometimes the footman — a 
 stiff and silent Englishman — but oftener the 
 waiting-maid — a wily Parisian whom the Bar- 
 oness had engaged in Pisa, wliere she had been 
 left by a ruined prima donna. 
 
84 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Today there was no one in the antechamber, 
 Robert was on a footing, in the house of Mme. 
 de Noyal, that justified him in entering unan- 
 nounced, and he went on to a small parlor 
 which was her favorite sitting-room. She was 
 not there. She knew, however, that he would 
 come, and she never awaited him in the gar- 
 den, which recalled such lugubrious memories. 
 Where could she be? Robert passed into 
 another room and did not find a single person. 
 
 "This is the castle of the Sleeping Beauty," 
 he murmured, wondering if he should go up 
 to the first floor. 
 
 A door, which he had not noticed, was now 
 opened, and a woman entered without any 
 noise, a woman dressed in black, who held a 
 bunch of keys in her hand. He took her, at 
 first, for a new domestic and was about to ad- 
 dress her as such, when he recognized her. 
 
 It was the companion who had been with 
 Mme. de Noyal for the past two months, the 
 governess of Jeanne Caristie, whom she had 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 85 
 
 never left until the day when the unfortunate 
 - girl was killed by the ball of an assassin. " 
 Robert had never been alone with her, and 
 had never seen her so near, for before Jeanne's 
 tragic death, she was very seldom seen. She 
 did not go into society with Mme. de Noyal 
 and her cousin, and on every occasion she kept 
 . herself in the background, affecting to dress 
 herself like a sister in some poor convent, and 
 trying to look old, 
 
 Robert had not yet observed that she was 
 much younger than she wished to appear. To- 
 day, for the first time, he saw her in a full light, 
 and she looked at him without lowering her 
 eyes; eyes that were deep, clear and sparkling, 
 eyes that would make one forget the most se- 
 vere ugliness. 
 
 Ugly she was not, although her skin lacked 
 freshness. Her hair was of that color which was 
 so dear to the great Venetian painters of the 
 sixteenth century, almost red with golden 
 
86 " THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 reflections. Her prominent chin indicated an 
 iron will. 
 
 Robert did not comprehend why he had 
 never before observed this characteristic face, 
 and he asked himself: Whom does she resem- 
 ble?" 
 
 For she positively resembled some one whom 
 he knew. He was sure of it. But whom? It 
 was not the Baroness, who was a blonde with a 
 complexion of lily and rose; still less the poor 
 dead girl, who had the pure features and sweet 
 look of a Madonna of Raphael. The outline, 
 and above all, the expression of the face re- 
 called a remembrance which he could not suc- 
 ceed in fixing precisely. 
 
 He saluted her politely and was about to ask 
 her where he could find Mme. de Noyal. 
 
 She had evidently anticipated the question, 
 for she said: 
 
 "Angclique is out on the Versailles road.'' 
 
 This familiarity of language did not shock 
 Robert, for he remembered to have heard her 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR.. 8/ 
 
 call tlie Baroness by her first name, having 
 known her when she was quite young. 
 
 She added: "That is the road to the ceme- 
 tery of Chatenay. Angelique goes there very 
 often to put flowers on the tomb of the friend 
 whom we have lost. You knew it, did you not?" 
 
 " No," stammered Robert, affected and a little 
 surprised. "Mme. de Noyal has nevertold me." 
 
 "She was afraid of making you sad. She 
 will be back soon by the little gate at the end 
 of the park. If you take the path which runs 
 around the lake, you can not fail to meet her. 
 She will be very happy to see you." 
 
 Robert did not take his eyes from the 
 woman while she was talking, and she not 
 only did not seem to be astonished to be gazed 
 at in that way, but to be pleased with it. Her 
 eyes seemed to be saying: "How do you like 
 me?" And there was a satisfied smile on her 
 sensual lips, as if she were thinking, " Have you 
 never before perceived that I am a woman 
 also?" 
 
88 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 It was he who put an end to this mutual ex- 
 amination. 
 
 " I thank you, madame, for telling me," he 
 said, turning towards a French window which 
 opened into the garden, and I am going.'* 
 
 "Not madame, if you please," interrupted the 
 cx-governess. I am a single woman, that is 
 ridiculous at my age— Angelique has been mar- 
 ried ten years, and I am six years older than 
 she— but I am not complaining of my fate — 
 she has suffered more than I have." 
 
 Robert was almost tempted to respond by a 
 compliment, which she, perhaps, was expecting. 
 He contented himself, however, with bowing 
 an expression of his sympathetic approbation, 
 and the demoiselle continued: 
 
 "I know it, for I have been with her ever since 
 her widowhood, and I hope I may never have 
 to leave her; for if she takes my advice she will 
 never marry again." 
 
 "She is very young to remain a widow always," 
 said Robert, smiling, very much astonished at 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 89 
 
 words SO much out of place in the mouth of a 
 person, who, although not to be confounded 
 with the servants, was still in the service of the 
 Baroness, and who coolly replied: 
 
 " Angelique is free to bind herself again, and 
 I am free to separate from her if she should 
 do so foolish a thing." 
 
 Robert had a great desire to say: "You do 
 not need to keep your place then," but he was 
 afraid of wounding her self-esteem and he cut 
 short the tete-a-tete by taking leave of her 
 with as much ceremony as if she had been the 
 chatelaine of Rose Villa/ He went down into 
 the garden and, ih going along the path which 
 she had indicated, he felt that she was follow- 
 ing him with her eyes, but he was careful not 
 to look around to assure himself. 
 
 He distrusted this woman without knowing 
 why. He had never noticed her before the 
 death of Jeanne Caristie, for he had seldom 
 seen her. Now she seemed to have renounced 
 the part she had played so long in the house of 
 
go - THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Mme. de Noyal, The caterpillar had become 
 a butterfly and had opened its wings, not yet 
 in the broad sunlight, but in the semi-darkness 
 of the twilight, as was suitable to the modest 
 .position which she occupied at the chateau. 
 
 She had made a singular impression upon him, 
 and everything about her was strange, even to 
 the sound of her voice which was grave and 
 sonorous, with occasional caressing inflections. 
 
 She did not please him, but she excited his 
 curiosity like an enigma which he would like 
 to solve. And he could not get rid of the 
 idea that she resembled some one whom he 
 knew. 
 
 The garden which he had to cross in order 
 to meet Mme. de Noyal was almost a park, for 
 in the space inclosed by the walls were long 
 lawns separated by numerous clusters of full- 
 grown trees. 
 
 There was an artificial stream and a small 
 lake, limpid and deep, whose steep banks were 
 shaded by enormous willows. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, QI 
 
 Robei t du Plessis was familiar with this park 
 for he had been through it more than once 
 when Mme. de Noyal gave her fetes. Since 
 her return she very rarely walked out, and 
 when she did walk with him she kept near to 
 the chateau. He continued to follow the paths 
 indicated by the companion and, at last, at the 
 end of a badly kept path, he perceived the 
 small door that he was looking for. 
 
 It was almost concealed by the stems of an 
 ivy which covered the walls of the inclosure, 
 which was cut near there by a grating through 
 which the guests at the villa could see the pe- 
 destrians and carriages on the road from 
 Choisy-le-Roi to Versailles, which was always 
 much frequented, especially on Sundays. In- 
 side, on a mound of grass which commanded 
 this grated opening, was a bench which had 
 been placed there for the use of those who 
 wished to rest, while amusing themselves with 
 the gratuitous spectacle of the people out 
 for a holiday. 
 
92 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Robert had no thought of indulging in this 
 diversion so highly appreciated by the Parisian. 
 He longed to find Mme. de Noyal, first, for the 
 pleasure of seeing her, and also because he 
 wished to talk with her about this woman whose 
 name even he did not know. 
 
 He was not very far from the ivy-wreathed 
 door, when, having arrived at the end of a 
 hedge which bordered the path, he saw Mme. 
 de Noyal within ten steps of him — she was 
 sitting on a two-seated bench which had been 
 placed there for the convenience of guests. 
 
 She had not stopped there to watch the 
 passers-by, for her back was turned toward the 
 road, but her head was bent so that Robert 
 only recognized her by her form and the mourn- 
 ing which she had worn since the death of her 
 cousin. 
 
 She raised her head at the sound of his steps 
 and was about to rise to meet him but he pre- 
 vented her, 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 93 
 
 I have come to find you/' he said, taking a 
 seat beside her. 
 
 " You could not have expected to find me 
 here, however," murmured the Baroness, visi- 
 bly annoyed at having been surprised. 
 
 **No — but I knew where you had gone.*' 
 How did you know it ? " 
 
 "Your servants were not in when I arrived. 
 I permitted myself to enter, and in the little 
 parlor where you usually receive me, I met — a 
 lady—." 
 
 "Severine?" 
 
 "Ah!" cried Robert gaily, "that is the name 
 which I did not remember any better than I 
 did the person who bears it. I do not know 
 why I had forgotten it." 
 
 "The name or the person?" asked Mme. de 
 Noyal quickly. 
 
 "Oh! the person. I recollected that I had 
 seen her at your house, but the name had en- 
 tirely escaped from my memory — although if 
 is not a common one." 
 
94 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "That is not exactly her name. She is really 
 named Severe." 
 
 "Then she is very well named, for she does 
 not seem to be very sweet." 
 
 "It is the name of a saint who is very much 
 venerated in Berry, where Mile. Dahun was 
 born." 
 
 " Really, she is a demoiselle then," said Rob- 
 ert laughing. '*It is the fate of governesses 
 to be old maids." 
 
 "She is not a governess any longer, and it is 
 her own fault if she is not married, for she has 
 money." 
 
 "Really? Why has she waited so long 
 then?" 
 
 " Because she has not always been rich. But 
 I do not believe she has taken a vow to remain 
 single, and she could find a husband without 
 any trouble." 
 
 "That is the blessing I should wish for her. 
 Has she inherited a fortune?" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 95 
 
 Not that I know of. She has saved money 
 from her salary, and in fifteen years she has 
 had time to put by enough to make quite a 
 dowry. But I presume that you have not 
 come here to talk about her/' said Mme. de 
 Noyal, dryly. 
 
 Certainly not!" cried Robert. I pray you 
 to believe that Mile. Severne's history interests 
 me very little indeed. I have come, as always, 
 to see you only, and I promise myself the plea- 
 sure of passing some hours in your society." 
 
 "I have nothing more agreeable to tell you 
 than that, very probably, I shall shorten my 
 stay at Chatenay." 
 
 **Do you think of going back to Paris? I 
 should be delighted, for— ' 
 
 I shall never live in Paris again; I think of 
 leaving France forever." 
 
 Expatriate yourself ! I could have under- 
 stood that six months ago — your journey to 
 Italy was easily explained— but now that that 
 
96 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 unfortunate trial is forgotten, why do you not 
 remain here? " 
 
 Because it is not living to live as I do- 
 alone in the memory of the awful crime which 
 was committed before my very eyes. You 
 have not abandoned me, and I am grateful to 
 you, but my situation is intolerable, for it is 
 horribly false— even in relation to you/* 
 
 " In what way, I pray?" 
 
 **You are only my friend, and neither you 
 nor I are at an age when a man can remain the 
 friend of a woman without the world's finding 
 fault with it." 
 
 **The^orld does not think anything about 
 us — and even if it should—" 
 
 **You are not afraid to brave it. I have not 
 the courage, and I am not strong enough to 
 endure humiliation any longer." 
 
 What do you mean ? Humiliation ? How?" 
 I endure it every day." 
 
 **From whom? You see no one but me, and 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 97 
 
 I suppose that your servants do not pre- 
 sume — 
 
 **No, not yet— but the people whom I meet 
 when I go out make me feel cruelly that 
 nothing ever effaces the stain of an accusation, 
 even though it be an unjust one. Some per- 
 sons go out of their way to avoid me: others, 
 tradesmen whom I have enriched, salute me 
 with an ironical affectation, and just now I 
 was insulted, not far from here— some rascals, 
 whom I had never seen, sneered as they spoke 
 my name." 
 
 How did they know it? You must be mis- 
 taken." 
 
 No, I heard it plainly— there! they are be- 
 ginning again. Listen!" 
 
 "They are singing," said Robert, as he heard 
 some words bawled to a silly air, from the 
 other side of the Park wall. 
 
 He recognized an old song of the concert- 
 saloon which began thus : 
 
 In the rue Lique-Liquetowne " 
 There lives a grocer—'* 
 
 1 
 
gS -THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 It was stupid but not malicious, and it was 
 impossible to find anything insulting in it— not 
 even an allusion to Mme. de Noyal. 
 
 "It is a band of students or clerks out for a 
 holiday," said du Plessis who thought the sensi- 
 tiveness of the chatelaine a little ridiculous. 
 
 The two idiotic lines were repeated in chorus, 
 and the soloist took up the next two lines: 
 "Who has a daughter Angelique 
 Lique-Lique to marry off." 
 This time it was the christian name of Mme. 
 de Noyal which came from the drunken mouth 
 of this virtuoso of the highway, but surely it 
 was not addressed to her. Robert said this to 
 her and she replied dryly. 
 
 "I am sure the song is addressed to me, and 
 they have chosen it expressly to insult me. 
 Do you hear the refrain ?" 
 
 It sounded like a fanfare as it was bellowed 
 out by the same brazen voice : 
 
 "I wish my daughter to be a Baroness— 
 Or a danseuse— that is my tic" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. gg 
 
 and the singer forced the note on the word 
 baroness. 
 
 Was there any design in this? Robert did 
 not think so, but he was angry that some 
 drunken men should take the liberty to give a 
 serenade, which resembled a charivari, to the 
 proprietress of the villa, and he rose to go and 
 put a stop to it. 
 
 The Baroness had already risen and was at 
 some distance from the bench, when the sing- 
 ers, who had been hidden by the wall, appeared 
 in front of the grating. 
 
 There were six or seven of them, of whom 
 three were women, in the loud toilettes of the 
 Latin quarter. The men, who were quite 
 young and more correctly dressed than their 
 companions, were getting ready to go on with 
 the concert. 
 
 Robert who had gone to order them away, 
 was not a little surprised to see that the leader 
 of this jolly and noisy troupe— recognizable by 
 his cane, which he held at arm's length like the 
 
100 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 leader of an orchestra— was Fil-de-Soie. Fil- 
 de-Soie in a new phase— dressed in the latest 
 fashion of the society in which he had lived 
 since his metamorphosis, and so changed that 
 his friends of the Moulin-Rouge, would have 
 taken him for a solid man, perhaps. 
 
 Robert, who saw him every day under the 
 colonnade of the Bourse, could not be mis- 
 taken, and he was just opening his mouth to 
 interrupt him sharply, when Fil-de-Soie, in- 
 stead of giving the signal for a renewal of the 
 song, ordered: *^File to the left! forward, 
 march!" executed a twirl with his cane like a 
 veritable drum-major, and put himself at the 
 head of the column which followed him closely 
 one behind the other. 
 
 These rural monomaniacs filed the length of 
 the wall and disappeared, to the great aston- 
 ishment of Robert du Plessis who had ex- 
 pected to have a quarrel with the black-guards. 
 It was inexplicable, but Robert did not amuse 
 himself in trying to find out why they took 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. loi 
 
 flight as soon as he showed himself. He hast- 
 ened to rejoin Mme. de Noyal that he might 
 reassure her, and it did not take him long to 
 overtake her, for she had walked slowly. 
 
 "Well !" said he gaily, "we are rid of them. 
 They were easily managed, for they decamped 
 as soon as they saw me." 
 
 "They will return," said the Baroness, "or 
 some others will come. It is an organized 
 persecution to force me to leave the country 
 and I have decided to do it." 
 
 "What! you will leave this charming villa 
 because you hear some drunken fellows sing- 
 ing on a public road ! That is one of the in- 
 conveniences of proximity to Paris, and there 
 is no proof that these brawlers wished to annoy 
 you." 
 
 "There is no proof, I know, but I feel sure of 
 it." 
 
 "Do you suppose that they are hired to 
 frighten you?" 
 "I am convinced of it." 
 
102 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **Good God, by whom?" 
 **By my enemies." 
 **Have you any enemies?" 
 '*Do you doubt it?" 
 
 *'No, not since you say so— but I also know 
 that you have a friend to protect you." 
 
 "Are you the friend?" 
 You know it perfectly well." 
 
 "Yes, you have proved, by coming to visit 
 me in my solitude, that you are not among 
 those who persist in accusing me of an infa- 
 mous crime." 
 
 "They would not dare to accuse you in my 
 presence. If any one should dare to do so — " 
 
 "What would you do?" 
 
 "I would shoot him," said du Plessis, 
 simply." 
 
 "By what right? you are neither my husband 
 nor my brother." 
 
 "By the right of a gallant man to protect a 
 woman from insult." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. IO3 
 
 '*And you would fight a duel to prove that 
 I am innocent ! You see that I shall have to 
 go away — if only to prevent you from risking 
 your life — I do not wish to bring misfortune 
 upon all who love me. When I shall be far 
 away from France I shall no longer be talked 
 about — and you will forget me/' 
 
 " I forget you ! I would like to, but I can- 
 not, and if you are resolved to exile your- 
 self- — " 
 
 **Well?" 
 
 "I will follow you." 
 
 "Would you leave Paris?" 
 
 "Yes, for all the good it is to me." 
 
 "If I should presume to take you at your 
 word, it would not be long before you would 
 repent of a folly which would cause your un- 
 happiness-^and mine." 
 
 "Yours? You have a sad opinion of me." 
 
 *'0n the contrary, I think well of you. I 
 think you are quite capable of an impulsive 
 act and even an 'inconsiderate one — but I do 
 
104 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 not wish to put your constancy to the proof/' 
 
 **And if I should tell you that I love you," 
 cried Robert carried away by the situation. 
 
 "I should ask you since when?" replied the 
 Baroness ironically. 
 
 Ever since I knew you." 
 I should not believe you, for you began by 
 lying — you knew me when you fell in love 
 with Jeanne." 
 
 "That is true — I have told you so— she 
 pleased me very much, and for a moment, I 
 dreamed of marrying her— but I believe that 
 she did not care for me.'' 
 
 ''You are mistaken. She loved you." 
 
 ''What! did she tell you so?" 
 
 "No, she did not tell me, but three days be- 
 fore her death she told Severine, who unfortu- 
 nately kept the secret." 
 
 "Why, unfortunately?" 
 
 "Because if Severine had confided in me, 1 
 would not have concealed it from you, and you 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. IO5 
 
 would have married. She loved you very 
 much — and it was the cause of her death.'' 
 
 **How? What had that to do with it?" 
 
 **Did you never wonder who killed her? 
 Has it never occurred to you that this murder 
 was caused by passion?" 
 
 Perhaps, but what passion could have 
 urged the assassin?" 
 
 **The most violent of all passions— jealousy." 
 
 Robert was not expecting this reply. The 
 prosecution had not dared, from lack of proof, 
 to assert that the accused was jealous of her 
 cousin, but had allowed it to be inferred ; and 
 Mme.de Noyal who had energetically protested 
 against this supposition, now declared that 
 jealousy had been the motive of the crime. 
 
 "Yes, jealousy," she persisted. *7eanne 
 was killed by a man who was persecuting her 
 by his declarations of iove, and she refused to 
 listen to him." 
 
 "You knew that, and you did not speak!" 
 
I06 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **I did not know it when I was arrested — 
 and if I had known it, I would not have told it 
 for I should have been obliged to tell, that al- 
 though Jeanne avoided him, she did not 
 denounce him, either to me or to her gover- 
 ness. Some persons who were not called to 
 testify, had seen him wandering around the 
 villa, and after the crime, he was never seen in 
 the country again. Severine does not doubt 
 that he murdered her because she had told 
 him that he must cease his persecutions." 
 
 •*We must believe then that she permitted 
 him to speak to her, when he met her alone?" 
 
 **Alas! yes,and that is the reason why, even 
 if I had known all this at that time, I would 
 not, to save my own life, have permitted a 
 shadow of suspicion to fall on the conduct of 
 our dear, dead girl. She was only imprudent, 
 and she has paid for it with her life." 
 
 These tardy confidences surprised Robert 
 very much, but he believed them to be sincere, 
 and the sentiments expressed by Mme. de 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 10/ 
 
 Noyal touched him deeply. He pitied her and 
 he admired her. 
 
 They were walking, side by side, along a 
 path bordered on the left by a thick hedge. 
 
 Suddenly, Mme. de Noyal stopped and 
 Robert saw that she was trembling. 
 
 "What is the matter, madame?'' he asked 
 hastening to support her. 
 
 "This is the place," she murmured. 
 Robert understood that they had reached 
 the place where the crime was committed and 
 for a moment he was greatly affected. 
 
 The Baroness, leaning on his arm, continued 
 in an unsteady voice : 
 
 "Pardon my weakness — I can never pass 
 this fatal spot without my heart failing — but I 
 do not regret coming this , way with you, for 
 you can realize the horrible scene. I was walk- 
 ing at the right of Jeanne, who almost touched 
 this hedge— it was growing late and we were 
 intending to return to the house after going 
 around the lake. Jeanne was very gay. She 
 
I08 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 was talking of you, and I have since thought 
 that she was going to confess that she loved 
 you when she was struck — I saw a flame — I 
 heard a report — Jeanne fell without a cry — and 
 then — I was a coward — I ran away." 
 
 "You are quite excusable for having lost 
 your presence of mind." 
 
 "No! I ought to have helped Jeanne, and I 
 left her and ran away from the assassin." 
 
 "That was very fortunate! If you had pur- 
 sued him he would have killed you." 
 
 "Ah well! I should not have suffered the 
 shame of being accused — ^judged— and acquit- 
 ted by miracle. I live, but my life is broken— 
 I would rather have died." 
 
 " Do not talk so, I beg of you. You have 
 suffered cruelly, but the future remains to 
 you." 
 
 "The future ! It will not bring forgetfulness, 
 it will only bring isolation and neglect. * 
 
 "No, for I am yours— you know it well — 
 yourr forever." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. ICQ 
 
 **Do you mean that you will follow me if I 
 leave Prance?" 
 
 "I have already said so, ana I will not un- 
 say it." 
 
 "That would be a sacrifice on your part 
 which I would not accept." 
 
 "A sacrifice which would cost me very little, 
 for I am tired of the life I am leading in Paris. 
 It would cost me very much more to give up 
 seeing you, and if you allow me to accompany 
 you, I shall only ask time enough to arrange 
 my affairs, which, I confess, are in a some- 
 what embarrassed condition." 
 
 "They are, perhaps, less so than mine," said 
 Mme. de Noyal sadly shaking her head. 
 
 This response surprised Robert. He had 
 supposed the Baroness to be very rich. This, 
 indeed, was one of the reasons which had pre- 
 vented him from aspiring to her hand — for he 
 was not a fortune-hunter. 
 
 "Yes," she continued, "I have for a long 
 ^ime, spent without any calculation, and while 
 
110 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 others have grown rich at my expense, I am 
 impoverished. But it does not matter. When 
 I have sold my property, I shall have enough 
 to live on abroad." 
 
 "So shall I, I hope, when I have settled my 
 operations at the Bourse." 
 
 "Then you are serious when you offer to 
 exile yourself with me?" 
 
 "Very serious indeed, I swear it to you." 
 
 Robert had no sooner pronounced this oath, 
 than the Baroness disengaged herself from 
 him and turned to look over the hedge. 
 
 "What is there?" he asked. 
 
 "Nothing," she said after a short silence; 
 "I thought I heard some one walking behind 
 the hedge — I was mistaken — I am nervous. I 
 have grown very timid since I saw my unhappy 
 cousin fall at my feet and I tremble at the 
 slightest sound." 
 
 "I understand that. Would you like me to 
 go to the end of the green walk to assure my- 
 self that it does not conceal some one?" 
 
THE^ ^lYSTERIOUS JUROR. Ill 
 
 ** No, it is unnecessary. When I came in I 
 was careful to double-lock the door." 
 
 " Was it open on the day the assassin slipped 
 in?" 
 
 "No, I have always thought that he came in 
 through the large gate." 
 
 **With the connivance of your servants, 
 perhaps?" 
 
 " Or by taking advantage of their negligence. 
 I was very badly served, and it is not much 
 better now. But let us not talk of that any 
 more and come back to my projects of depart- 
 ure. My resolve is irrevocable, and you have 
 just sworn that you are decided to go with me 
 —I would like very much to believe this oath 
 — which» I did not ask of you — you will keep 
 it, but, after?" 
 
 'How, after?" 
 
 Yes, to what will our voluntary exile lead 
 us?" 
 
 Robert, embarrassed by this question thus 
 thrust into his face, only responded by an 
 
112 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 equivocal smile, and the Baroness, coldly con- 
 tinued. 
 
 "You spoke to me just now of the future — 
 have you ever asked yourself what it would 
 be for me if we were — why should I not call 
 things by their right names? — if you were my 
 lover and I your mistress?'* 
 
 " I should consider myself too happy," mur- 
 mured du Plessis, a little foolishly. 
 
 **I should be the most unhappy of women," 
 replied Mme. de Noyal quickly, *'for after the 
 unmerited fall which I have experienced, I 
 will never resign myself to being put aside by 
 the world in which I have always lived, and 
 my only chance of re-entering it with my head 
 up is to meet an honest man who loves me 
 enough to marry me." 
 
 The boot was small, but he would have had 
 trouble to evade putting it on. He did not 
 even dream of doing so. 
 
 In coming to pass Sundays at Rose Villa, 
 Robert had certainly not foreseen that the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. IIj 
 
 Baroness whom he liked very much, would 
 suddenly raise the grave question of marriage; 
 and if he had, he very probably would have 
 prepared to defend himself, but like a jockey at 
 a steeple-chase, who finds himself suddenly 
 confronted by an obstacle not down on the 
 programme, he had nothing else to do but to 
 leap, under penalty of being unhorsed by stop- 
 ping his horse too suddenly. 
 
 He did not hesitate to leap the ditch at the 
 risk of his future happiness and present inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 " Well, it depends only on you. I flatter 
 myself that I am the man you are seeking. If 
 you wish,^we will start in a fortnight; we will 
 be married at Venice, and when we return to 
 Paris I shall have the right to protect you 
 against everybody." 
 
 This was said so simply that Mme. de Noyal, 
 excited almost to tears, scarcely had the 
 strength to murmur: 
 
 You are a noble man." 
 
114 ™^ MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "Then you accept," replied Robert gaily. 
 kisMng her hand. " Good, we are engaged- 
 we have nothing more to do but—" 
 
 A noise oi crushed leaves interrupted his 
 words, and the Baroness, quite pale, pressed 
 timidly against him. 
 
 There was some one behind the hedge listen- 
 ing to them. 
 
 " Decidedly, I believe this time that there is 
 some one watching us. I will be sure of it," 
 cried Robert, seizing the branches of the hedge 
 in order to separate them. 
 
 The song of a bird arrested him. A black- 
 bird flew away with a great rustling of wings 
 and a burst of song. 
 
 Robert laughed aloud, and the Baroness was 
 
 satisfied. 
 
 The talk, which had been so serious in the 
 beginning, was growing tender, when Mme. de 
 Noyal saw her footman coming toward her with 
 a folded paper in his hand. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. II5 
 
 '*A little blue {petit bleu) for you," said 
 Robert. 
 
 "I am not expecting one from anybody/' 
 said the Baroness, a little anxiously. 
 
 It was really a dispatch, but instead of 
 handing it to Mme. de Noyal, the servant hast- 
 ened to give it to M. du Plessis, and immedi- 
 ately took his way back to the villa. Robert, 
 who was surprised at receiving a telegram at 
 Chatenay, examined it and did not hurry to 
 open it. 
 
 "Read it, my friend,'* said the Baroness 
 gently. suppose that my presence does not 
 disturb you." 
 
 ''Not at all. I can not guess who knows of 
 my being here, but I have no secrets from you." 
 And he tore open the blue envelope. 
 
 *'Is there bad news ?" asked Mme. de Noyal, 
 seeing that he frowned. 
 
 ''I do not know; it is not at all clear," re- 
 sponded Robert with ill-humor. '* Listen, and 
 tell me if you understand this negro jargon:" 
 
Il6 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''Hasten) dare, dare. Wait you statio7i, five 
 o'clock. Sure not miss train. If missed, we go 
 tipr 
 
 Itwascorrectly addressed, Robert du Pies- 
 sis, care Mme. the Baroness de Noyal, Rose 
 Villa, Chatenay." 
 
 There is nothing intelligible in this non- 
 sensical dispatch, but the address and the sig- 
 nature: **Raoul Vignemale/* 
 
 **He is one of your friends, I believe?" 
 asked the Baroness. 
 
 "Yes, you are not acquainted with him, but 
 I must have spoken to you about him." 
 
 **You told him then that you were going to 
 spend the day with me?" 
 
 '' No, and I cannot imagine how he found it 
 
 out." 
 
 **That is strange, to be sure, but why does he 
 recall you to Paris in such haste?" 
 
 ♦*The deuce if I know!" 
 
 *'He says that if you miss the train you will 
 go up. What does he mean by those words?" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 117 
 
 "It is all Hebrew to me." 
 " Did you not say that this gentleman has 
 done some business with you?" 
 
 "Yes, and what I have done with him has 
 not been successful." 
 
 "It seems to me that in the argot which they 
 speak at the Exchange, up means to lose all 
 one's money." 
 
 "Perfectly! but just now I have nothing to 
 fear, for I settled day before yesterday, unless 
 Vignemale has involved me in some new opera- 
 tion without letting me know." 
 
 "Whatever it may be, you can not rest in 
 uncertainty. Go, my friend! go at once! the 
 train leaves Sceaux at thirty-four minutes past 
 four— you have no time to lose." 
 
 "To the devil, with Vignemale and business! 
 I came to Chatenay to see you. I am here and 
 I am going to stay here." 
 
 " I beg of you to go. I should reproach my- 
 self all my life, if by keeping you here, I should 
 
Il8 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 be the cause of a disaster which might com- 
 promise your fortune— and if you staid in spite 
 of my prayer, I should be so worried that I 
 should nut talk of anything else— we should 
 pass a very gloomy day— it would be a hun- 
 dred times better for you to come back to- 
 morrow, when you have seen your friend and 
 prevented the catastrophe which threatens 
 you.'' 
 
 Robert began to think this would be wiser. 
 He did not suspect Vignemale's honesty; he 
 believed him incapable of using his name in 
 any wild scheme, but he distrusted the im- 
 pulses of this bold fellow who thought only of 
 colossal speculations and who always predicted 
 a rise in stocks. 
 
 With a partner of this stamp, any bad news 
 coming suddenly on the market might ruin the 
 jfirm in twenty-four hours. 
 
 There was then the pressure of necessity, 
 and it would have been foolish in him to lose 
 the chance which still remained of averting 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. HQ 
 
 disaster. If Robert had received this alarming 
 telegram the evening before, he would not have 
 hesitated a minute; but now it would cost 
 something to leave this charming widow to 
 whom he had just engaged himself. 
 
 " Do you really wish it/' he asked. 
 
 "I insist upon it." 
 
 "Vou have the right, for I belong to you. 
 Only promise me that you will receive me to- 
 morrow morning.'' 
 
 "As early as you please." 
 
 " Then I will go, and I will return by the first 
 train. Will you not be afraid to stay alone 
 to-night so near to the park where one hears 
 steps behind the hedges?" asked Robert du 
 Plessis. He smiled at the remembrance, but 
 Mme. de Noyal grew pale, and Robert felt her 
 hand tremble in his. 
 
 " I will not walk in the accursed park any 
 more without you," murmured the Baroness, 
 as she pressed close to his side, ^ 
 
120 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 hope SO, surely ! " he cried gaily. *' I do 
 not believe there is any danger; but there are 
 too many little doors, and the highway is too 
 near the wall. The suburbs of Paris are very 
 lively, but there are too many bad fellows 
 about, especially on Sunday, and you would do 
 well not to sit on that bench in front of the 
 grating." 
 
 *'I will be sure not to do so. I am too much 
 afraid of that wicked band — I am going this 
 way to see my poor rose-bushes which 
 were frozen in the winter. But do not delay, 
 I pray you. I shall be in despair, if you miss 
 your friend, and I shall not be easy until I see 
 you again. Good-by till to-morrow. Think 
 of me, and promise me that you will not play 
 any more." 
 
 " I might answer : I swear I will not ! but I do 
 not wish to make too many promises. I will 
 keep the one I had just made when that med- 
 dlesome petit bleu disturbed us." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 121 
 
 "I have a presentiment that it will save you 
 from disaster, for you will get there in time," 
 said the Baroness after looking at her watch. 
 "Will you, before you cross the court, ask 
 Severine to comt to me? I wish to speak to 
 her." 
 
 "Do you think that I shall meet her?" asked 
 Robert a little surprised at the commission. 
 
 "She is, no doubt, in the small parlor on the 
 ground-floor, sitting near the open window. 
 She spends every day in writing." 
 ^ "What is she writing? Her memoires?' 
 
 " Perhaps," gaily responded Mme. de Noyal. 
 "Do not take the trouble to go up the perron. 
 The window of the parlor is on a level with 
 the path. You will see Mile. Dahun bending 
 over her desk ; you will tell her that I want 
 her, and she will be willing to defer her writ- 
 ing, I trust." 
 
 "I understand— I will send her to you." 
 
 "If, by chance, she has gone oiit, do not lost 
 any time in looking for her. She would be in 
 
122 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 the garden, and I shall find her there. Go, my 
 friend. Time is passing and trains do not 
 wait.'' 
 
 **I am off," said Robert, taking ^his course 
 towards the city, while Mme. de Noyal walked 
 slowly towards her rose garden which lay on 
 the other side of the park. 
 
 Robert, with that mobility of spirit which 
 was the least of his faults, was now anxious to 
 join his friend Vignemale as soon as possible, 
 and would gladly have been excused from 
 going out of his way to inform the companion 
 that the Baroness was expecting her. 
 
 He found the window open, but he saw only 
 an empty arm-chair in front of a large desk 
 laden with books and papers. Fatigued, no 
 doubt, with directing letters or regulating ac- 
 counts, Mile. Severine had left the place, and 
 Robert was about to go on his way when he 
 caught sight of a portrait which hung opposite 
 the window. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROB 1 23 
 
 The sun fell directly upon it, and dazzled 
 the eye so that all he could at first distin- 
 guish was a name, engraved in black letters on 
 the moulding at the bottom of the gold frame : 
 a name and a date 
 
 "P. Cadornac— 1889/' 
 
 The name of the painter and the date of the 
 exposition where the picture had been exhib- 
 ited. 
 
 Robert's curiosity was piqued, for he had 
 hardly expected to find there a work of his 
 friend, the artist of Montmartre. 
 
 The picture was the portrait of a man and 
 Robert, by changing his position and making 
 a shade with his hands, was, at last, able to 
 examine the face without being blinded by the 
 dazzling reflections. 
 
 He recognized immediately the man who 
 had sat for the portrait. It was M. de Chener- 
 ailles. 
 
 Robert could scarcely believe his eyes. Ca- 
 dornac had spoken to him, on the evening in 
 
124 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 November, of this portrait for which he had 
 been so royally paid by the Marquis. But 
 how came this work of art to ornament the 
 little parlor, or rather the office, of Mile. Sev- 
 erine Dahun? Was the governess a relation 
 or the mistress of this lord more or less 
 genuine? 
 
 While Robert was asking himself these 
 questions, his memory suddenly awoke. 
 
 "There it is, parbleu! there is the liketiess I 
 was searching for,'' said he between his teeth. 
 *^The features are not the same; but the look 
 of the face and the expression of the eye are 
 alike. It is striking, and I wonder that the 
 idea of comparing the two heads did not come 
 to me before. True, I had not had the chance. 
 Now that I have seen Chenerailles in a painting, 
 since talking with Severine, I am sure they 
 have the same blood in their veins. They do 
 not seem to be trying to hide themselves, since 
 this sort of governess hangs the portrait of the 
 Marquis in her own room. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 12$ 
 
 I wonder how nearly they are related ! If they 
 were brother and sister, the Dahun, who is— or 
 says she is— an unmarried woman, would Be 
 called Chenerailles like the Marquis— unless 
 the latter gives himself a name which does not 
 belong to him— which would not surprise me. 
 Mme. de Noyal must know all about the fam- 
 ily of her governess. She will tell me to- 
 morrow. 
 
 '*Now," said Robert, turning on his heel^with 
 the carelessness which formed the basis of his 
 character. ^'I must try to catch the train.'' 
 
 He did not miss it. Sceaux is not far from 
 Chatenay and he had a good pair of legs. He 
 arrived five minutes before the hour of depart- 
 ure, and leaped into an empty compartment, 
 raging against the telegram which had recalled 
 him to Paris. 
 
 But he was really very uneasy. He sus- 
 pected some financial disaster which might 
 ruin him, and he was grateful to Vignemale for 
 
126 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 having warned him, although he only under- 
 stood that some danger threatened, which 
 there was still time to avert. 
 
 Temporarily relieved by a gleam of reflec- 
 tion, Robert resolved that this should be a les- 
 son and that he would give up this infernal 
 gambling on the Bourse, which had always 
 caused him disagreeable emotions. 
 
 Besides he could do nothing else since he 
 had decided to leave Paris and to return a 
 married man. 
 
 He had sworn, and he intended to keep his 
 word; but he knew— and Mme. de Noyal also 
 knew— that one can not be married off-hand 
 in France. There are long formalities to be 
 gone through and the engaged couple would 
 have plenty of time to reflect before taking the 
 irrevocable step. 
 
 But, during the short journey from Sceaux 
 to Paris, Robert thought much less of the con- 
 jugal future which awaited him than of the 
 threatening news that he should hear on leav- 
 ing the train. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 There were not many passengers on the five 
 o'clock train. The Sunday excursionists like 
 to dine in the country and the first class car- 
 riages were nearly empty. 
 
 On reaching the end of his journey, Robert 
 looked for Vignemale. There were not ten 
 persons in the waiting-room and Vignemale 
 was not among them. 
 
 The train was five minutes late and he could 
 not have left the station, but he might be be- 
 hind time. The station is at a considerable 
 distance from the grand boulevards, and the 
 cabs are slow. Robert waited. He sat down 
 on the highest step of the staircase so that he 
 might be able to see Vignemale as soon as he 
 entered the court in a victoria drawn by some 
 broken-winded horse. He only saw some ma- 
 rauding coachmen moving about in search of 
 a passenger. 
 
128 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Ten minutes passed. Robert stamped his 
 feet with impatience, and his mind was filled 
 with the most incoherent conjectures. 
 
 What was the reason that Vignemale failed 
 to be at the place appointed by the dispatch? 
 Was he to think that the disaster which he 
 wished to prevent had been consummated and 
 that the poor fellow had not dared to bring 
 the news of this misfortune? 
 
 know him— the animal," muttered du 
 Plessis; "he is risky in business affairs, but he 
 is not dishonest. If he has done me the bad 
 turn to ruin me, he is quite capable of blowing 
 out his brains. I should be in a pretty fix. 
 But what unlucky operation could he have got 
 me into, since I left him yesterday at three 
 o'clock? It must have been in the evening at 
 the sub- exchange {petite Bourse), What has 
 happened since then? There were no hints of 
 a ministerial crisis this morning, and there 
 was no talk of any trouble with Germany. It 
 is impossible 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. l2g 
 
 A man came in calling out the evening pa- 
 pers. Robert bought them and looked in vain 
 for any financial or political event. 
 
 Still Vignemale did not come. 
 
 Robert, exasperated, had half a mind to re- 
 turn to Sceaux by the next train, and perhaps 
 it would have been well if he had done so ; but 
 he was carried away by anger. 
 
 **I will find him," said he between his teeth. 
 He shall explain his conduct to me. There 
 are limits to friendship. If he has played a 
 trick on me, he shall pay dearly for it." 
 
 Without further deliberation, Robert hailed 
 a cab which was passing, and jumped into it 
 saying: ^'Rue de Provence, No. 36." He did 
 not expect to find Raoul at home, but he 
 hoped to learn there where he might be found. 
 For a wonder, the cab made very good time, 
 and twenty minutes later he was at the Rou 
 Drouet. 
 
 The broker's offices are in this street, and 
 9 
 
136 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 the idea came to Robert to inquire, in passing, 
 if any one had seen Vignemale. 
 
 It was Sunday ; but the evening before a set- 
 tlement the employes have work to do and 
 Robert perceived, under the porte cochere, 
 the old cashier whom he knew. He called 
 him. 
 
 The good man smiled when du Plessis asked 
 if Vignemale were there.though he took pains 
 to add : 
 
 "Oh! I know very well that he is not usually 
 in his office on holidays— but I understand that 
 there is a report of news from — Egypt." 
 
 He said "Egypt," at a venture, as he might 
 have said the Balearic Islands or ai^ other 
 
 place. r 
 
 "Not that I know of," responded the cashier. 
 "I have just seen the principal. He would 
 have mentioned it. Decidedly quiet every- 
 where, monsieur. Everything is on the rise 
 and to-morrow stocks will go off like milk 
 porridge." 
 
The mysterious juror. 131 
 
 The adventure was becoming decidedly 
 mysterious. 
 
 Relieved from a great anxiety, Robert 
 breathed freely again ; but he was not satisfied 
 and he drove to the Rue Provence. 
 
 He began to wonder if he had interpreted 
 the telegram correctly. The words **we will 
 go up'' might be understood in another way. 
 They might refer to some affair which had 
 nothing to do with business, and consequently 
 to some matter in which Vignemale had need 
 of the immediate assistance of his friend. 
 They were intimate enough to justify his ap- 
 peal to du Plessis in such a case. 
 
 It was, however, still to be explained why 
 Vignema^le had not gone to the station. 
 
 At the Rue de Provence, Robert learned 
 that Vignemale had told the concierge that he 
 was going to the club. 
 
 Now at the end of his conjectures, Robert 
 concluded that his comrade was going to fight 
 a duel and wanted seconds. 
 
132 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 He knew that he was a bad fellow to deal 
 with, and so there was nothing unreasonable 
 in the supposition. 
 
 The club, of which they were both members, 
 was within a step of the Boulevard des Capu- 
 cines. Robert drove thither, and the- first per- 
 son that he saw on raising his eyes to the first 
 floor, was Raoul Vignemale, leaning on the 
 balcony railing and quietly smoking an 
 enormous cigar. 
 
 "That is too much!" growled Robert as he 
 jumped to the sidewalk after paying his fare. 
 "My gentleman lounges here while I run after 
 him. I do not know whether it is a duel, but 
 he will have to settle with me first." 
 
 Vignemale saw him from his observatory 
 and went through a joyous pantomime,raising 
 his arms to heaven at the apparition of a friend 
 whom he had not expected and with a super- 
 abundance of gestures invited him to come 
 up. Robert needed no urging. He went up 
 the' broad stairs, four steps at a time, and 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1 33 
 
 burst like a bomh-shell into the almost deserted 
 parlor. Four men were playing whist in a 
 corner of the room, and two or three old men 
 were stretched out in rocking-chairs fast 
 asleep. There was no other person on the 
 balcony where Vignemale was taking the air. 
 
 ''Here you are!" he cried, making room for 
 du Plessis — ''Parbleu ! you have come in the 
 nick of time! I was almost bored to death,, 
 and I was afraid I should have to dine with a 
 lot of old gray-heads who fairly put me to 
 sleep. We v/ill charter a cab for a ride through 
 the Bois, and then we will go to the Ambassa- 
 deurs or to the circus. How does that strike 
 you?" ^ 
 
 ''I will tell you when you have explained 
 why you sent for me to return to Paris." 
 
 ''Well, that is cool ! I could not very well 
 write to you, not knowing where you were." 
 
 "You knew well enough to have the address 
 perfectly right." 
 
134 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''Rose Villa, heigh?" asked Vignemale, 
 winking his eye laughingly. 
 
 " Yes Rose Villa— and— ' 
 
 ** That is right, confess ! You are so myste- 
 rious that you never have told me where you 
 have been every Sunday for the last six weeks; 
 and you will do me the justice to say that I 
 have never asked you. But I guessed it, and 
 I am not the only one. Your journeys to 
 Chatenay are Punch's secret among us fellows 
 on Change." 
 
 **That is not the question," interrupted Rob- 
 ert dryly. You telegraphed to me that you 
 would meet me at five o'clock at the station, 
 on the arrival of the train from Sceaux. I wish 
 to know why you were not there." 
 
 "For the very simple reason that I did not 
 make an appointment to meet you there." 
 
 "You dare to deny it?" 
 
 ** I deny it absolutely." 
 
 Robert took the telegram from his pocket 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I35 
 
 and thrust it into the face of Vignemale, who 
 asked without being at all excited: 
 
 **Who sent the petit blue?'' 
 You sent it. Will you deny your signature/' 
 would not deny it if I should see it on the 
 original of the dispatch, but a telegraphic sig- 
 nature means nothing. Some one has used my 
 name, and I should like to know who. Let me 
 examine that suspicious paper." 
 
 After lopking it over Vignemale exclaimed. 
 
 *'Did you believe that came from the office 
 at Sceaux?" 
 
 "Naturally, I did.'* 
 
 *'Did you see the messenger who brought it?'* 
 **No, it was handed to me by a footman." 
 " Then I see through it. My dear fellow, 
 this is a spurious telegram, and I am astonished 
 that you were deceived. If you had examined 
 it you would have noticed that the envelope 
 is not stamped and that the dispatch was writ- 
 ten by hand instead of being printed by the 
 operator." 
 
136 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 *'That is so," murmured du Plessis, after he 
 had verified it. *'Some one must have stolen 
 this blank from a telegraph office." 
 
 Probably. And that is very easy. There 
 are blanks always lying on the table where peo- 
 ple write dispatches." 
 
 *'But why did any one send me a false tele- 
 gram?" 
 
 "To play a trick on you." 
 
 But, who?" 
 "I had nothing to do with it, and that is all 
 I know about it. But you will be sure to find 
 the author of the joke some day." 
 do not see how." 
 **If I were in your place I should argue this 
 way: It is May, so there is not an April fool. 
 An ordinary joker would not have taken so 
 much trouble for the sole pleasure of forcing 
 me to take a useless journey. He had some 
 object." 
 
 begin to think so: but what was it?" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1 37 
 
 If you were a married man one might pre- 
 sume to think that some fine gentleman in- 
 vented this trick to clear the field^for himself. 
 But as you have not yet committed the folly 
 of getting married— that can not be it. Un- 
 less — " 
 
 "Well— finish 
 
 *'No — no — I never mix myself up in the love 
 affairs of my friends, when my friends do not 
 tell me anything about them, and as you have 
 never said a word to me about yours, you will 
 be pleased if I keep my conjectures to my- 
 self." 
 
 Robert began to understand, and, as he had 
 no longer any motive for concealing his visits 
 to the Baroness, since Vignemale and the rest 
 knew about them already, he said brusquely: 
 
 "Well, yes, I was at Mme. de Noyal's when 
 I received this telegram. Do you think this 
 could have been sent to draw me away from 
 there?" 
 
138 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **It looks like it. I do not know what your 
 relation to her is; but assuredly, you do not go 
 to Chatenay ^"cry day to see the leaves sprout 
 —you go there to make love. Perhaps you are 
 not the only one, and some rival who is an- 
 noyed by your presence has played you this 
 turn." 
 
 *'With the consent of the Baroness, do you 
 think?" 
 
 " At least with the consent of the rascal who 
 brought the dispatch to you as if he had re- 
 ceived it from a messenger. But I should like 
 to know what you imagined when you read this 
 riddle—" 
 
 I believed that you had involved me in some 
 operation and that there was danger of my 
 losing a good deal of money." 
 
 *VYou have a pretty opinion of me." 
 
 did not stop to think." 
 **Well, I, who do think, say that the liar 
 knows me and knows that we operate on the 
 Bourse together, for he has used my name^ I 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I39 
 
 do not like it, and I should be very much 
 pleased to put my hand on the coward; I would 
 pull his ears for him and even cut them off if 
 he were worth the trouble. Will you help me 
 find him? 
 
 **I would like nothing better.'' 
 
 **Then I must know the precise relations 
 between you and the Baroness de Noyal. It 
 seems to me you have changed your opinion 
 since the trial — you believed then that she was 
 guilty." 
 
 have certainly learned that she was inno- 
 cent" said Robert quickly. 
 And I now doubt it." 
 
 Because you do not know her. If you saw 
 her, if you heardiier, you would be convinced 
 that she was wrongly accused." 
 
 ''Well, let it be so. It is certain that her 
 
 i 
 
 cousin was really and truly murdered." 
 
 "Yes, by some unknown person who haunted 
 Rose Villa and persecuted the-poor child with 
 his declarations." 
 
"What do you know about it? If Mme. de 
 Noyal told you this, the testimony is subject 
 to suspicion. But I have no desire to go over 
 the trial again. I have only one question to 
 ask you and I beg you to answer it exactly. 
 Are you her lover?" 
 
 ''No, and I shall never be.*' 
 
 "Excuse me — but does she not please you, 
 cr do you not suit her." 
 
 " I shall not be her lover, because I am go- 
 ing to marry her." 
 
 ** Are you mocking me or are you speaking 
 seriously?" 
 
 "Very seriously. I love her and I am sure 
 that she loves me, and I am tired of living 
 as I do." 
 
 "When is the wedding to take place?" 
 asked Vignemale with imperturbable coolness. 
 
 " Mme. de Noyal is going back to Italy. I 
 shall either go with her or join her there, and 
 we shall be married there.** 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 141 
 
 **That is a pity — If you were married in 
 Paris the church would not hold your friends." 
 
 Thanks for your appreciation," replied 
 Robert dryly. You asked me what were my 
 relations with Mme. de Noyal; I have told you 
 and I have not asked for your advice. I do 
 not even ask you to keep the secret. I care 
 very little whether the world praises or blames, 
 I have the courage of my opinion. Now let it 
 rest here I pray. All the objections you could 
 make would not change my resolution." . - 
 preach to you! Whom do you take me 
 for, my dear fellow? You are free to marry 
 according to your fancy. There are all sorts 
 of tastf^s in the world; and every one's is best. 
 Only let me know when the event will take 
 place, and if I do not have to cross the Alps, 
 I will gladly be one of your witnesses. I only 
 find fault with one thing — that you did not tell 
 me sooner." 
 
 **We were only engaged to-day." 
 
142 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROK. 
 
 Down at Rose Villa? Then the dispatch 
 was very mal a-propos, and since you believe 
 I sent it, you sent me to the devil, no doubt.'* 
 did, indeed. The dispatch was given me 
 in the park just after we had exchanged 
 promises." 
 
 Did you show it to the Baroness?'* 
 
 Naturally — and she advised me to leave. I 
 shall see her again to-morrow morning." 
 
 Where?" 
 
 At Chatenay, and perhaps it would be bet- 
 ter for me to go back this evening to relieve 
 her fears." 
 
 Vignemale shook his head like a surgeoa 
 who has a beautiful pathological case before 
 him and said to himself: 
 
 **You are badly hurt, my dear friend, but I 
 will save you in spite of yourself." And then 
 aloud: 
 
 **You would be wrong. She would think 
 that you are jealous, and besides, one ought 
 never to surprise the women. Now, I trust 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I43 
 
 that you will not distrust me any more and 
 will allow me to clear up the mystery of the 
 false message/' 
 
 **Very gladly. I have told you so already." 
 
 **Then you will not be angry if I ask you how 
 Mme. de Noyal lives in the country?'' 
 
 **She lives very quietly — she receives no one 
 but me." 
 
 "Does she keep up an establishment?'* 
 A very moderate one: a lady's maid, a foot- 
 man and a governess." 
 
 ***What the devil can she do with a 
 governess?" 
 
 It is her cousin's old governess — she keeps 
 her for a companion — she is a demoiselle of 
 thirty- five years by the pretty little name of 
 Severine." 
 
 **She has another name, I suppose." 
 
 '*Her family name is Dahun." 
 
 "Dahun? That is queer— the firm in which 
 I am interested has a client of that name 
 who makes big deals; she invested eight 
 
144 MYSTCRIOUS JUROR. 
 
 hundred thousand francs in Suez the other 
 day." 
 
 "It certainly can not be the woman I have 
 seen at Rose Villa." 
 
 "The capitalist of whom I am speaking lives 
 in Paris, in the neighborhood of the Champs- 
 Elysees. I have never seen her and I do not 
 remember who told me that she got rich by 
 managing the fortune of millionaires. She be- 
 gan by becoming the mistress of the husband, 
 and has managed to remain the friend of the 
 wife. I will inform myself more exactly. 
 What kind of a person 4s this companion of 
 the Baroness?" 
 
 "Not at all bad, in spite of her age; she has 
 auburn hair and superb eyes— eyes full of fire 
 and a face which is surprisingly intelligent. 
 
 " As far as I can judge, she is treated almost 
 as an equal. I know very little about it, how- 
 ever, for I spoke to her to-day for the first 
 time." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I45 
 
 "Was she present when you received the 
 dispatch?'' 
 
 " No, why do you ask such a question?" 
 
 "Why? Let us see. You know very well 
 that a pointer, before putting himself on the 
 scent, takes the wind on all sides. You are 
 the hunter and I am the dog, since I am going 
 to help you find the rascal who deceived us.'' 
 
 "Very good ! but this Severine has nothing to 
 do with it." 
 
 "Who knows? Suppose that your frequent 
 visits to the Baroness were displeasing to her. 
 She would have taken a good way to disgust 
 you with them." 
 
 "Why should my visits to the Baroness be 
 displeasing to her? " 
 
 " Perhaps she has a fancy for you herself. 
 
 This happens to old maids. I knew one who 
 
 was in love with a young man. He would 
 
 have nothing to do with her, and she could not 
 
 compel him to marry her, but she prevented 
 
 him marrying some one else. As soon as she 
 10 
 
146 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 heard that he was courting another woman, she 
 laid snares for her rival, and she succeeded in 
 ruining her reputation. She would have killed 
 her, I believe, rather than suffer him to marry 
 her— and she gained her ends— he is still a 
 bachelor/' 
 
 ''There is no sense in your supposition. 
 This Severine thinks very little about me. I 
 know that Mme. de Noyal has enemies who 
 would like to force her to leave Chatenay/' 
 
 ''Is that true?" 
 
 "I would not believe it, but I had proof of it 
 to-day. A troop of blackguards sang some 
 insulting songs in front of one of the gratings 
 in the park, and I recognized the leader of the 
 band. Yon would have recognized him too, for 
 you meet him every day— he is an old dancer 
 who has turned into a commercial broker." 
 
 'KZolimard! Jules CoHmard ! " 
 
 *'0f the Moulin-Rouge; they used to call 
 him Fil-de-Soie." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1 47 
 
 " I remember him perfectly, and now he 
 works for a side-broker. It is enough to dis- 
 gust one with the Bourse." 
 **Does he have any clients?'* 
 Some very big ones. I know of one who 
 helped him to three commissions, the Marquis 
 de Chenerailles. You know him also, for you 
 told me that he rescued you from three villains 
 who attacked you in the street. Have you 
 ever seen him since?'* 
 
 have met, him that is all.'' 
 **You will have a chance to see him near by 
 and often. He has been presented at the club. 
 He dined here yesterday and won twenty-five 
 louis from me at cards—just half of the fifty 
 which I won from you in our bet on the acquit- 
 tal of the Baroness." 
 
 Robert du Plessis was so affected by these 
 memories, recalled one after another, that it 
 was in vain for him to try to dissimulate. 
 
 Vignemale seemed to make it a point to 
 excite him by bringing up these old stories, 
 
148 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 which did not appear to have any relation to 
 what he called the telegraphic trick, and 
 Robert began to think that Vignemale was 
 right in insinuating that there was a rivalry of 
 w^omen at the bottom of all this. Had not 
 Severine said that if the Baroness should 
 marry again she should leave the house? Had 
 not the Marquis de Chenerailles given his por- 
 trait to the governess who resembled him so 
 strongly? and this gentleman employed Coli- 
 mard as his agent at the Bourse, and Colimard 
 went on Sunday to Chatenay to annoy Mme. 
 de Noyal. 
 
 Were all these people in collusion against 
 the Baroness? If M. de Chenerailles had been 
 her enemy he would not have undertaken her 
 defense. Had he become her enemy since the 
 acquittal which he so brilliantly achieved? 
 
 Robert was not prepared to solve these 
 problems. 
 
 Vignemale, who was watching him, from the 
 corner of his eye, made no effort to relieve 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 149 
 
 him from his embarrassment. One would 
 have said that he enjoyed it, he put an end to 
 it, however, and to the situation by saying 
 with an indifferent air: 
 
 "My friend, you are wonderfully good to 
 worry yourself to death over so small a matter. 
 Everything will be cleared up some day. 
 Besides, since you have decided to marry, the 
 history of the false telegram is of no impor- 
 tance, and I do not understand why you^ give 
 yourself so much trouble over it. It will be 
 time enough to think about it to-morrow. The 
 night brings counsel; let us go dine at the 
 Champs Elysees.'* 
 
 ^'Very well!'^ said Robert, more resigned 
 than reassured. 
 
 They had left the balcony and were crossing 
 the grand salon to go down to the street, 
 when a footman of the club presented, on a 
 plate, a letter to Robert du Plessis, saying : 
 
 "It came yesterday, but monsieur did not 
 come here in the evening.'' 
 
ISO THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Robert took it with a gesture of impatience. 
 Messages were pursuing him. 
 
 **I h^ve an idea that is from a woman/' said 
 Vignemale. 
 
 The large, square letter did not look like a 
 billet-doux, however. 
 
 Robert broke the seal and looked in vain for 
 -the signature. 
 
 **Is that a joke too?'' asked Vignemale 
 gayly. 
 
 The letter contained four pages of writing, 
 in a large, regular hand like a book-keeper's, 
 and was as follows : 
 
 **A friend whom you do not know, wishes to 
 "prevent you from committing a folly of which 
 **you will repent all your life. You have al- 
 lowed yourself to be ensnared by the falsest 
 "and most perverse of women. She has de- 
 " signs upon you, and since she has attracted 
 "you to Chatenay, she has succeeded in per- 
 "suading you that she did not kill her cousin. 
 "It is true that she did not kill her with her 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. -I5I 
 
 **own hand, she is too much of a coward. But 
 *'she sentenced her to death, and the murderer 
 *'had only to execute the sentence. I have 
 proofs of this, and although the incapacity of 
 ''the jury has saved her from punishment, it 
 ''lies with me to deliver her up to the contempt 
 *'and execration of all honest persons. But 
 *'her accomplice, who has not been tried, 
 "would have to suffer in her stead, if I should 
 ''denounce her, and that would be unjust, for 
 *'he was only an instrument. I shall not de- 
 "nounce her, but I wish you to know what 
 *'kmd of a woman she is, and what she wishes 
 "to do. Five years ago she swore that she 
 "would marry you. The day that Jeanne con- 
 "fessedto her that she loved you, the crime 
 "was conceived, and the next day the unhappy 
 "child was murdered in the park where the 
 "murderer was watching for her, and where he 
 "had been brought by the Baroness herself. 
 "This woman is a monster. She would^blow 
 
the: mysterious juror. 
 
 *'up a city to satisfy a caprice, and she de- 
 "pends upon you to reinstate her in the society 
 "from which she has been driven. She has 
 "not yet dared to disclose her projects, but 
 "she will not delay much longer, for her situa- 
 "tion at Chatenay is no longer tenable. She 
 "will be forced to go away, and she will pro- 
 "pose to you to follow her. If you should 
 "have the weakness to consent, you would be 
 "a lost man. I warn you. If you do not fol- 
 " low the disinterested advice which I give you, 
 "you will have only yourself to blame for all 
 "the misfortunes which will result from your 
 "folly!" 
 
 "Well, what is it about?" asked Vignemale. 
 
 Robert handed him the letter saying : 
 
 "Read it— it is anonymous— and tell me 
 what you think of it ?" 
 
 "I think it was written by a woman," said 
 Vignemale after having read the letter. 
 
 "I do not think so. It is a man's writing." 
 
 "The ideas are certainly a woman's— as to 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1 53 
 
 the writing, it is the same as that in the tele- 
 gram ; see for yourself," said Vignemale plac- 
 ing the dispatch before his eyes. 
 
 *' There is a similarity — but — " 
 
 **It is the same, I tell you, and here is a 
 discovery which will put us on the track. This 
 person wrote you yesterday to prevent your 
 going to Chatenay. He has telegraphed to- 
 day to bring you away and the two messages 
 are in the same hand." 
 
 **What do you conclude from this?" 
 
 **That the Baroness has an enemy in her own 
 household." 
 
 An enemy who slanders her falsely." 
 
 **I^do not know that These anonymous 
 
 V 
 
 letters are very vulgar ; but there is no harm 
 in taking advantage of the indications that one 
 finds in them." 
 
 **Thcn you believe that Mme. de Noyal paid 
 a villain to murder her cousin, simply to pre- 
 vent h^r from marrying me?" 
 
154 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "I assert nothing, but this idea came to me 
 a long time ago. Do you remember our con- 
 versation in the court-room? I asked you if 
 the Baroness did not have an inclination for 
 you. You became quite red with anger. I 
 was jesting then, but it seems td me now that 
 I guessed right. But I have no advice to give 
 you— for I believe in individual liberty. I 
 have already made my professions of faith on 
 this subject. Marry or not, my friend, we will 
 always remain friends. And if I ever get hold 
 of the amiable joker who has made use of my 
 name, I will have an explanation with him 
 which will remove all desire to do the same 
 thing again. Just now we have nothing better 
 to do than to drive out in order to refresh our 
 ideas. I propose the terrace of the Ambassa- 
 deurs. Perhaps we will find some of our 
 friends there, and we will wind up at the con- 
 cert. You have given up the ridiculous idea 
 of going back to Chatenay this evening." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 155 
 
 Entirely." 
 
 ^'Then let us start for the Champs Elysees, 
 and to-morrow we will attend to business." 
 
 Robert followed his friend without delay. 
 The anonymous letter and Vignemale's com- 
 ments had thrown cold water on the enthusi- 
 asm of the lover and he saw that he had been 
 in a great hurry to engage himself. He was not- 
 convinced that Mme. de Noyal was guilty, but 
 he had begun to doubt her innocence and he 
 was disposed to take time tp clear away his 
 doubt before becoming united with her for life. 
 
 But he was not unwilling to forget the cares 
 which were tormenting, until the morrow, and 
 he readily agreed to the proposal to pass the 
 evening in jolly, or at least in numerous 
 company. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The two friends had talked a long time be- 
 fore leaving the club, and when they reached 
 the cafe they found it full. The warmth of 
 this spring Sunday had attracted from every- 
 where those people who love to dine out of 
 doors. They were everywhere, and on the ter- ^ 
 race, facing the music-stand, every table was 
 occupied. Some foreigners belonging to the 
 genus excursionists, had invaded it; some 
 third-rate fellows were taking a treat with 
 some young women of no consequence, and 
 some bourgeois couples had installed them- 
 selves there to enjoy the good cooking with 
 the music thrown in. 
 
 ''The devil growled Vignemale, '*we are 
 left ! not a person we know ! and what is worse 
 not a vacant place ! We shall have to go some- 
 where else." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 157 
 
 Robert, better informed than his comrade, 
 had just seen, quite near them, and sitting 
 alone at a table which would easily accommo- 
 date four persons, a gentleman whom he had 
 not expected to meet and who hastened to 
 bow to him. 
 
 -That is Colimard's client," said Vignemale 
 half aloud. **If he were polite he would offer 
 us the seats opposite him. You have known 
 him some time and he has won twenty-five 
 louis from me. It wouldn^t cost him anything 
 to be polite to us and we should not be obliged 
 to go away for lack of seats.'* 
 
 Colimard's heavy client was the Marquis de 
 Chenerailles and he, no doubt, guessed what 
 Vignemale was saying to his friend, for he rose 
 and came with the best grace in the world, to 
 invite them to take seats at the table where he 
 was dining alone. 
 
 *a was expecting," he said, **two friends who 
 have played me false. I will not wait for them 
 
IS8 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 any longer, and I have two places to offer 
 you." 
 
 Vignemale made no ceremony over accept- 
 ing, and Robert did so only for form's sake. 
 In other circumstances, he would have hesita- 
 ted perhaps; but it seemed to him that he 
 ought to take advantage of this unexpected 
 interview to obtain some light on certain ob- 
 scure sides of the present situation: for exam- 
 ple the history of the portrait which he had 
 seen in the room of the lady-companion. He 
 would like also to find out the relations be- 
 tween the Marquis and Fil-de-Soie. These 
 were two subjects which were difficult to ap- 
 proach ; but, conversation between men at an 
 improvised dinner, is likely to touch on many 
 subjects and Vignemale would find a way to 
 bring it about ; Vignemale, who talked about 
 everything even if he knew nothing about it. 
 
 M. de Chenerailles, with whom Robert had 
 associated very little, was of a less exuberant 
 nature, and the relations between them had 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 159 
 
 always been ceremonious ; but this evening he 
 seemed disposed to be friendly and was so 
 amiable and simple that all embarrassment dis- 
 appeared at once. They drank champagne, 
 each paying his share, and the Roederer un- 
 tied the tongues of all. 
 
 The Marquis had traveled a good deal and 
 seemed to have mingled in the best society, 
 and he engrossed the conversation, telling 
 amusing anecdotes without obtruding his per- 
 sonality too strongly, which is the height of 
 the art of talking. He seemed to avoid speak- 
 ing of his family, his past or his origin; but 
 your genuine noble never talks nobility. If 
 that of M. de Chenerailles did not date from__ 
 the Crusade, he was incontestably an accomp- 
 lished gentleman, and if his antecedents had 
 been dubious he would not have been, at Paris, 
 on the jury list on which are inscribed the 
 names of more bourgeois than grand seigneurs 
 and where his name had figured by the side of 
 that of M. Dauphin, the upholsterer. 
 
l60 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Vignemale gave the cue and the talk did not 
 languish; but Robert had not yet succeeded 
 in leading to the subjects with which he was 
 pre-occupied, when apropos of the disgrace 
 of a fashionable woman who had recently en- 
 rolled herself in the great army of demi- 
 mondaines, M. de Chenerailles said: 
 
 Gentlemen, do you know what has become 
 of the Baroness de Noyal since her judicial 
 adventures?" 
 
 Robert was so surprised at the question that 
 he remained silent. 
 
 ''Perhaps you think that she has disappeared 
 forever like a falling star," continued the Mar- 
 quis. ''Not at all! After an eclipse of some 
 months, she is living quite near Paris, at the 
 villa where she was arrested last year. I have 
 it on good authority." 
 
 "That is very bold on her part," said Vigne- 
 male. "I was at the trial and I divined that 
 this suave blonde was a superior person. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. l6l 
 
 You will see that she will resume her place in 
 society/' 
 
 "Why not? asked Robert timidly. **She 
 was acquitted.'* 
 
 •*I was on the jury," said M. de Chenerailles, 
 "and it was through me that she was acquitted. 
 I was convinced of her innocence." 
 
 In the few visits which he had exchanged 
 with the Marquis, Robert had always hesitated 
 to speak of what had passed in the jury room. 
 M. de Chenerailles, who had never said a word 
 to him about it, now introduced the subject 
 himself and continued: 
 
 "I had never visited at Mme. de Noyal's 
 when I was summoned on the jury and I knew 
 only^the facts brought out at the trial. Now I 
 am better informed; if I had it to do over 
 again — " 
 
 "You would do it over again," sang Vigne- 
 
 male to the air of the " Brigands " of Offenbach. 
 
 " I do not think so," said M. de Chenerailles, 
 a 
 
l62 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 gravely. *^The Baroness was released, but she 
 had a narrow escape." 
 
 Have you since found the proofs of her 
 guilt?" 
 
 **Not the material proof; but the absolute 
 conviction, and I have arrived at the convic- 
 tion from information which was given me 
 by a person whom I have known for a good 
 many years and who has been very much mixed 
 up with the life of Pvlme. de Noyal. She did 
 not see her commit the crinie, but she knows 
 why it was committed, and this person is the 
 former governess of the young girl." 
 **Severine!" cried Robert du Plessis. 
 Miss Severine Dahun. You have often seen 
 her at the house of the Baroness." 
 
 *^Who has overwhelmed her with benefits 
 which she repays by accusing her of an 
 odious crime," said Robert. ^ 
 
 She could have ruined her, and she said 
 nothing to the judge who presided at the trial. 
 It is only recently that she came to consult 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 163 
 
 me, as she would have consulted her confessor 
 upon a matter of conscience. You might be 
 astonished that she chose to confide a secret 
 which weighed heavily on her mind, to me, if I 
 did not tell you that her family is connected 
 with mine, and that she is almost a relation/' 
 
 ''Robert was on the point of saying: '*She 
 looks enough like you to be your sister;" but 
 he restrained himself so as not to interrupt the 
 Marquis in the flow of his confidence. 
 
 Vignemale, who was less reserved, hastened 
 to say: 
 
 ''She must also be related to one of our 
 clients, who bears the same name and who has 
 just withdrawn eight hundred thousand francs, 
 which she had with my patron." 
 
 *' She is the client herself,'' tranquilly re- 
 plied M» de Chenerailles. My old friend has, 
 by her intelligence and economy, accumulated 
 a very pretty capital and I have advised her in 
 regard to its investment. She is going to re- 
 tire to the provinces, and I hope she may 
 
164 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 marry there, although she has waited almost 
 too long. I have had some trouble to make 
 her decide to leave the Baroness; I have finally 
 succeeded in making her understand that her 
 place is no longer at Rose Villa." 
 
 "Mme. de Noyal does not intend to remain 
 there, I believe," said du Plessis. 
 
 She would do well to leave, and the sooner 
 the better, if she wishes to avoid insult." 
 **She has been insulted already." 
 "Yes," said Vignemale, '^my friend du Ples- 
 sis tells me that the insignificant Colimard, 
 aided by some other blackguards, gave a char- 
 ivari in front of the park grating. You know 
 him very well, monsieur the Marquis?" 
 
 **The fellow who was called Fil-de-Soie of 
 the Moulin-Rouge?" 
 Exactly." 
 
 I made his acquaintance there," said M. de 
 Chenerailles laughing. " He was on very good 
 terms with all the women, he was useful to me, 
 and when I found him again at the Bourse, 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 165 
 
 where he has intruded himself, I helped him 
 make some money. But I beg of you not to 
 think that I sent him to Chatenay/' 
 
 Everything concurred to make Robert be- 
 lieve that the Baroness had taken advantage 
 of his credulity and weakness to extract a • 
 promise from him. The clear and frank lan- 
 guage of M. de Chenerailles had dissipated the 
 vague suspicions which the discovery of the 
 portrait had aroused. This loyal and correct 
 gentleman Had been the first to speak of his 
 relations to the family of the governess, and 
 even of the protection which he accorded to the 
 equivocal Fil-de-Soie. And it was impossible to 
 suppose that these explanations had been 
 prepared, for the Marquis could not have 
 guessed that Robert du Plessis and Vignemale 
 would come that evening to the Ambassadeurs. 
 
 Vignemale proposed that they should finish 
 the evening at the Circus,, and the Marquis ac- 
 cepted at once. 
 
l66 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Robert was in no humor to accompany them, 
 and he excused himself on the plea that his 
 trip to the country had fatigued him and that 
 the sun had given him a headache which the 
 champagne had not made any better, and that 
 he preferred to go to bed. 
 
 That will be best," said Vignemale, slipping 
 the anonymous letter and the false dispatch 
 into his hand; sleep the sleep of tlie^just and 
 have no bad dreams. I will come in the morn- 
 ing and wake you up, and we will breakfast at 
 Tortoni's." 
 
 Robert did not refuse, although he had 
 promised the Baroness to return to Chatenay 
 by the first train, and leaving the restaurant, 
 the three men shook hands and went their 
 ways. 
 
 The house in which Robert lived was at the 
 corner of Avenue Percier, and he was not far 
 from the porte cochere when he saw a woman 
 leaning against the door as if keeping guard. 
 There was no reason for arresting her, and 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 167 
 
 without paying any attention to this belle of 
 the night, he put his finger on the button of 
 the bell. But the wpman said to him: 
 
 **Good evening, monsieur. Do you not 
 recognize me?" 
 
 **Not at all," responded Robert, who believed 
 that she was one of the women who are on the 
 lookout for adventures. 
 
 If she" were one, she had chosen a very bad 
 time and he was going to pass her rudely, but 
 she said: 
 
 "You have seen me often at Rose Villa. I 
 am Mme. de Noyal's maid. If you do not 
 remember my face, perhaps you may recollect 
 my name— Sylvia?" 
 
 "Are you the woman that Mme. de Noyal 
 brought with her from Italy?" 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, from Pisa, where my last 
 mistress had left me— Madame the Baroness 
 did me a great service. I would go through 
 the fire for her:" 
 
l68 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''Very well, but I do not understand why I 
 find you here." 
 
 have been here twenty minutes. Your 
 porter told me that you had not come in. I 
 waited for you in the street and I am glad that 
 I did, for you are now here." 
 
 "What do you want?" asked Robert. 
 
 ''I must first give you this note from Mad- 
 ame the Baroness." 
 
 Robert, stupefied, took from the woman'i^ 
 hand a leaf of paper which looked as if it had 
 been torn from a note-book, and by the light 
 of a gas-jet he deciphered some lines hastily 
 written in pencil : 
 
 ** A danger threatens me. A terrible danger. 
 "I have no hope but in you: Come. You may 
 *' depend on Sylvia. Please God she may find 
 *'you and bring you here. If I must never see 
 **yo.u again, do not forget me." 
 
 This was certainly the writing of the Baro- 
 ness. Robert could not be mistaken in this, 
 but his first thought was, that this singular 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 1^9 
 
 appeal was only a new mystification, and that 
 it concealed a snare. 
 
 "Have you no special commission from 
 Mme. de Noykl?'* asked Robert. 
 
 **Oh! yes, monsieur: I must bring you back 
 with me without fail." 
 
 Ah ! Do you know what your mistress has 
 written to me? " 
 
 "No, monsieur; but I suspect.'' 
 
 "Then tell me what it means." 
 
 "Yes, monsieur. You know Severine?" 
 
 "Mile. Caristie's governess?" 
 
 "That is the one! and she is a woman that 
 James and I cordially dislike." 
 
 "Who is James?" 
 
 "The footman that Madame brought from 
 Italy. A splendid Englishmen. Have you 
 never noticed him?" 
 
 "Upon my word, no, Sylvia. But go on, you 
 were speaking of Severine." 
 
 Was he about to find the key to the mystery 
 which his interview with the Marquis had 
 
1^0 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 made still more obscure? But, he was on his 
 guard, decided to believe nothing without 
 proofs, and above all not to return to Chatenay 
 unless it was absolutely necessary. 
 
 "I have'^ watched Severine for nearly a 
 month," said Sylvia. '^The neighbors have 
 told me the history of Madame, and I adore 
 Madame. I agreed with James to watch this 
 big red-headed woman with her sharp eyes 
 which have not the catholic look at all. I saw 
 that she was always writing, keeping accounts, 
 and never getting through. But she does not 
 leave her papers lying about and she' always 
 carries her own letters to the post; she is 
 afraid, no doubt, that some one will see the 
 name of her acquaintance — for I am sure she 
 has an acquaintance." 
 
 **Be short; the time is passing, and if we 
 wish to take the train — " 
 
 **Yes, monsieur, at forty minutes past ten. 
 Let us start now, I will explain to you on the 
 way/' 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 17 1 
 
 She took his arm and drew him gently 
 forward. 
 
 **No, Sylvia," said he disengaging himself, 
 must know first." 
 
 ^'Know what? that Madame is in great dan- 
 ger down there? She must have written that 
 to you, and it is God's truth." 
 
 What danger?" 
 
 "Severine and the villains with whom she 
 has an understanding. I saw two of them 
 roaming about this evening ; one of them I 
 know very well— he is quite handsome, but he 
 has a wicked look. Stop ! it is that good-for- 
 nothing, who made a charivari this morning, 
 with a lot of his own kind." 
 
 Robert began to be interested once more in 
 the misfortunes of the Baroness. 
 
 ''Let us go, monsieur," repeated Sylvia. "If 
 we lose a minute we may miss the train." 
 
 "We will take the next one, that is all. 
 There are trains running until midnight." 
 
172 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 "The next train ! And what if we get there 
 too late.'* 
 
 "But,'* persisted Robert, "why didnotMme. 
 de Noyal come herself instead of sending 
 you?" 
 
 "Because of those fellows, who are strolling 
 about. Madame is^^so timid! I was not any 
 too brave myself. I know a path — I only tell 
 that to you. I slipped out by the little door, 
 and I reached the scholar's road, but not for 
 my own pleasure." 
 
 A victoria was passing. 
 
 Sylvia hailed the driver, opened the door 
 and said to Madame 's lover: 
 
 "Come, monsieur, get in," and he obeyed. 
 
 "To the Sceaux station," ordered the amaz- 
 ing soubrette. "If you get there at ten thirty^ 
 five you shall have a handsome pour-boire." 
 
 She threw herself into the carriage, and sat 
 down, without any ceremony beside Robert, 
 who found her very amusing. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 173 
 
 am listening to you Sylvia. In your 
 opinion and that of James,'' said he smiling, 
 **the Severine is the chief of a band— a sort of 
 Cartouche in petticoats.'* 
 
 Worse than that, perhaps! Listen to me 
 monsieur, and you shall judge : This morning 
 when you came, I saw that the big red-head,who 
 is very fond of you, I am sure of it, intended to 
 see you on your arrival. I was at a window on 
 the first floor when you came through the gate. 
 There was no one to receive you. You see it 
 is Sunday, and James had gone to play bowls, 
 and did not return till two hours after. I lis- 
 tened and I heard you go into Madame's favor- 
 ite parlor. I also heard Severine go there and 
 the sound of your voices through the floor. 
 My faith, I could hold back no longer, and, 
 pardon me, monsieur, but it was for Madame's 
 sake— you understand." 
 •'Not at all." 
 Eh well, I stretched myself on the floor and 
 listened." 
 
174 • THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **I understand." 
 
 **And I remember what she said last to you: 
 *Angelique is free to marry again as I am free 
 to leave her if she should do so foolish a thing/ 
 I have a good memory." 
 
 **And good ears too," said Robert. 
 
 **Yes, monsieur, at your service and Ma- 
 dame's. I said to myself — 'Severine you do 
 not want Madame to marry again, especially 
 that man for whom you have a weakness.' 
 When you were last in the park where Madame 
 was waiting for you — you see I know all about 
 it ! I wished to see Severine close by, and I 
 watched her without appearing to do so. She 
 was angry, and at whati She knew that Ma- 
 dame and you would not waste your time in 
 talking politics. When those blackguards 
 were singing: *In the street Lique-Liquetowne,' 
 a song made for the occasion, I looked through 
 the key-hole into her den. She laughed at the 
 rubbish until her face was as red as a beet." 
 
 "Are you sure?** 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 175 
 
 do not keep my eyes in my pocket." 
 
 "Nor your ears either. 
 Certainly not. Not long after I heard some 
 one go out into the park. I went upstairs and 
 posted myself at a window on the stairs which 
 overlooks the whole place. What did I see 
 but Severine gliding along under the trees like 
 a snake, and I saw her, as plain as I see mon- 
 sieur, hide herself behind the hedge." 
 
 But the victoria now stopped suddenly at 
 the station. Robert looked at his watch ; it 
 was thirty-five minutes past ten. He gave a 
 pour-boire to the coachman, and entered the 
 train without any hesitation. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 They had got into a vacant first-class com- 
 partment, but at the moment the train was 
 about to start, two other travelers entered and 
 took their places opposite and Sylvia was 
 obliged to stop her recital. 
 
 •Robert rebelled against the wise slowness 
 with which the Sceaux railroad follows its in- 
 terminable curves. They reached Sceaux at 
 last, however, and as they had a little more 
 than a mile to walk in the moonlight, Sylvia 
 had time to finish her confessions and 
 confidences. 
 
 From my observatory I continued to watch 
 Severine, and I confess to you that my heart 
 beat very hard. It was from that hedge, you 
 know better than I, that the shot was fired 
 which killed Madame's cousin. I had strange 
 thoughts. If James had only been there ; but 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 177 
 
 the rascal lingered at the bowls — he is a first- 
 class player — besides, I thought that your 
 presence would protect the poor woman from 
 her enemies." 
 
 *That was well reasoned, Sylvia. Go on; 
 but let us hurry." 
 
 He took long strides and she trotted after 
 him. 
 
 When I saw you two stop before the hedge, 
 where that snake was watching, my heart was 
 in my mouth. Suddenly Madame trembled as 
 she pointed with a frightened air at Severine's 
 hiding-place. Oh ! I surely thought that the 
 jade had been caught in the very act ; but you 
 supported jVTadame and resumed the conver- 
 sation. Good ! said I to myself, she must hear 
 every word! she is in the very best place to 
 hear, and I could see that you and Madame 
 were not saying disagreeable things." 
 
 *'Be brief, Sylvia, I beg of you.'' 
 
 She was obliged to stop ^ minute to take 
 
 breath. They could see the trees of the park 
 12 
 
178 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 and it would not take more than ten minutes 
 to reach there, but how long these minutes 
 seemed ! 
 
 **Well, Sylvia, what then?" said he, as he 
 invited her to take his arm, which she did 
 with an air of satisfaction. 
 
 *'Did you not make a search in the hedge, 
 monsieur?'' 
 Yes, Sylvia." 
 
 **Did not a black-bird fly out, and did you 
 not laugh?" 
 
 **Yes, but what then? ' 
 
 **That black-bird made itself an accomplice 
 of Severine. But there was something else. 
 James brought you a dispatch, and you went 
 away after stopping to look into the room 
 where the serpent concocts her schemes." 
 
 Robert interrupted her to ask who had 
 brought the dispatch. 
 
 *'One of the singers of the Rue Lique-Lique- 
 towne, the little brown one with the wicked 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I79 
 
 look. I recognized him by the description 
 which James had given me." 
 
 *'Fil-de-Soie again, the scoundrel!" thought 
 Robert. *'But go on, or rather finish, for we 
 are here." 
 
 She made him stop a few minut^es and fin- 
 ished her story. 
 
 ''Before dinner I took Madame aside and 
 spoke to her alone. I told her all and she 
 grew as white as wax. Suddenly I heard the 
 front gate shut. I ran to the window and saw 
 Severine hurrying to the station, no doubt to 
 carry the tetters which she writes every day. 
 Madame looked after her and then went 
 quickly down to the little room. I followed, 
 and as she did not tell me to go away I re- 
 mained. Madame tried every one of her own 
 keys, but not one would fit the drawers of the 
 secretary. *Wait, Madame' said I. I went to 
 my room and came back with a lot of small 
 keys which I had inherited from an old Italian 
 gentleman with whom I have lived in Pisa. 
 
l80 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Madame tried one after another of them and 
 would you believe it? it was the very last one 
 that opened the rose-jar. Madame began to 
 search among the papers. She trembled like 
 a leaf but she did not forget to put everything 
 in order. At last she found a letter which 
 made her cry out. I thought she was going to 
 faint. But she recovered herself, refolded the 
 letter, put it back under the pile, reclosed the 
 drawer and went up to her room where I fol- 
 lowed her as you know." 
 
 *'Go on, go on." 
 Madame wrote the note which I brought to 
 you, put it in an envelope and told me to take 
 it to you and to bring you back immediately. 
 She is waiting for you in the park, near the 
 small door, through which I came out. That 
 is why I have kept you here, that we may go 
 around the place. My-God ! what if any of the 
 band should have seen us.'' 
 
 Robert looked around him. It was as light 
 as day. There was no one to be seen. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. l8l 
 
 They went along the wall of the park as far 
 as the door, which was half concealed by the 
 stems of the ivy falling down from the inside 
 in natural wreaths. 
 
 They walked as stealthily as wolves, lovers, 
 or thieves. They stopped at the door. 
 
 From that point they could see the bench on 
 the hillock. 
 
 There was no one on the bench. 
 
 Robert risked being discovered : 
 
 " Angelique," said ha in a low and mysterious 
 tone. 
 
 There was no response, 
 Sylvia seized his hand. 
 
 **I am afraid," said she in a low voice. 
 What if we should fall into some snare. Have 
 you a pistol?" 
 '•Chut!" 
 
 He thought he heard some one walking be- 
 hind the wall. 
 They listened. 
 
l82 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 But no, it was the noise of the wind among 
 the bushes. 
 
 Sylvia trembling, gave him the key of the 
 door and put herself behind him. 
 
 He opened the door. ^ 
 
 It creaked lightly on its hinges. 
 
 Before closing it again, Robert made a slight 
 pause. 
 
 If Mme. de Noyal were m the neighborhood 
 she would not fail to meet her faithful servitor. 
 There was no one ! 
 
 Robert examined the woman with suspicion. 
 
 But Sylvia's pretty face expressed so real a 
 fear that Angelique's lover becamc^alarmed 
 also — not for himself, but for the Baroness, 
 left alone with Severine. 
 
 He searched the park and his imagination 
 was so excited that, when a moonbeam threw 
 its white train between the trunks of two trees, 
 in the shadow of a cluster of wood, he fancied 
 he saw a woman's form extended upon the 
 ground. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 183 
 
 He advanced towards the villa. 
 
 **Have you the key?" he asked of Sylvia. 
 
 "Yes, monsieur ; but if we go in by the door, 
 the serpent will have us, and who knows what 
 may happen to us." 
 
 **The serpent will not swallow both of us/* 
 
 **Oh! monsieur, do not go in at the door." 
 
 "How shall I get in then?" 
 
 "Through the window." 
 
 This would turn the Shakesperian tragedy - 
 into Italian comedy. Robert du Plessis did 
 not care to renew at Chatenay the balcony 
 scene of the Veronese lovers. The Baroness 
 was a little too mature for the role of Juliet, 
 and, while having a very good opinion of him- 
 self, he did not aspire to play the part of 
 Romeo. 
 
 "If Vignemale should see me climbing up 
 there he would take me for a mandolin player 
 serenading his mistress," said he. 
 
 But we have seen Sylvia at work. When 
 
l84 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 that Parisian has a project in her head, one 
 must resign himself to her wishes. 
 
 Monsieur will find a ladder in the carriage 
 house where James is waiting for him." 
 
 •*Ah! James expects you? Perfect! Well 
 my beauty, there is nothing to fear since the 
 Englishman is taking care of us. Do me the 
 favor to go up to Madame's room and ask her 
 if she has need of my protection. Bring the 
 answer to me in five minutes at most. This 
 over, I will return to Paris by the way we came, 
 I have the key of the little door." 
 
 **But, Monsieur, if Severine ?" 
 
 "That is all the same to me." 
 
 Sylvia understood that he would not give it 
 up and resigned herself to obey. 
 
 "All right, monsieur, I am going. I will try 
 to make as little noise as possible. Severine's 
 room is on the other side towards the street. 
 It is very likely that she will not hear me. 
 Give mc two minutes more to tell James." 
 
 "Go!" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I85 
 
 He turned his back to her, but he saw her 
 from one side, glide like a sylph over the gravel 
 which scarcely cracked under her feet. 
 
 He began to feel a tardy remorse; what if 
 this girl was in any real danger ? It was, surely, 
 neither gallant nor chivalric to send her alane 
 as a scout. 
 
 Bah! was not the footman there to keep 
 watch? 
 
 Robert contented himself by approaching 
 the house slowly. 
 
 In passing before the hedge, where the un- 
 known assassin had hidden, and where Mile. 
 Severine had concealed herself this very after- 
 noon, he experienced a singular apprehension. 
 It was so strong that he hastened his steps, and 
 soon perceived the impassible James who was 
 standing before the half-open door. 
 
 He joined him, and tapping him on the 
 shoulder, asked in a low voice: 
 
 **What do you think of all this?" 
 Nothing,'' said James. 
 
l86 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Robert looked at his watch. The seven min- - 
 utes allowed to Sylvia had nearly expired 
 
 Suddenly light footsteps were heard. Some- 
 body is coming down the stairs in great haste. 
 
 It is a woman. No, it is not Angelique. 
 Robert could have distinguished the rustle of 
 her dress distinctly. 
 
 It is Sylvia. She is very pale and her eyes 
 are wild. 
 
 Oh ! monsieur ! Oh ! James ! " 
 
 She tries to speak, but she is so oppressed 
 that the words will not come from her mouth. 
 
 At last she conquers her emotion. 
 
 *4 knocked at the door," said she. *'and 
 Madame did not answer." 
 
 "You did not knock loud enough," said 
 Robert, who supposed that the Baroness was 
 asleep. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, monsieur. Madame is a very 
 light sleeper. And then Madame is locked in, 
 which proves that she is inside. 1 thought I 
 smelt charcoal coming from under the door. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 187 
 
 I tried to look through the key-hole, and I 
 found it was stopped up with rags. Then I 
 ran away." 
 
 Suicide!'' And she had summoned him, 
 the friend, the lover, who had just offered to 
 protect her against the malevolence of the 
 world, to v/itness that she was dead.'' 
 Poor, brave woman ! 
 
 He would save her if it were not too late. 
 "Quick, James, bring the ladder. Do you 
 know how to open the blind?" 
 "Yes, monsieur." 
 
 The Englishman came back in a few mo- 
 ments, holding the ladder with both hands, and 
 between his teeth a pair of pincers, such as is 
 used by burglars. James placed the ladder 
 against the front of the house, mounted slowly 
 to the windows, unfastened the blinds and said: 
 
 "It is done!" 
 
 ^*What do you see?" asked Robert. 
 " Nothing." 
 •*Come down/* 
 
l88 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR 
 
 The Englishman obeyed, Robert took his 
 place, and without any further precaution broke 
 a pane of glass — the pieces fell inside without 
 much noise. 
 
 A puff of carbonic acid escaped through the 
 window. 
 
 Robert was obliged to turn to one side to 
 get the air; but at the same moment he 
 turned the fastening of the window. 
 
 And a moment after, he was in the room. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Sylvia's disclosures were exact to the fetter. 
 
 Yes, she had followed Severine with the 
 Snesse and vigilance of a police spy; she had 
 seen her hide in the hedge; she had informed 
 her mistress, who had made an immediate ex- 
 amination of the governess* secretary. 
 
 What had there been so alarming in the 
 letter which Mme. de Noyal discovered among 
 the private papers of the large rousse with the 
 sharp eyes? 
 
 In order to comprehend the document, it 
 must be understood, that the wealthy widow 
 had been so imprudent as to confide the man- 
 agement of her fortune to this woman. 
 
 Very ignorant of figures, a little inclined to 
 be idle, and knowing that her late husband had 
 often had recourse, in important affairs, to the 
 knowledge of the governess, she retained her 
 and made her her steward. 
 
\gO- THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 When a widow who has been accustomed to 
 live without any care, is the possessor of two 
 millions, she does not imagine that she will 
 ever see the end of them. Besides, Angelique 
 spent very little in proportion to her income, 
 and every time .that Mile. Dahun made her 
 monthly statement, she contented herself with 
 saying: 
 
 That is all right ! But spare me the de- 
 tails, if you please. I am satisfied to know 
 that I am still comfortable." 
 
 She paid her generously and made her many 
 rich presents. She would not allow her to 
 spend her own money for a single trinket, and 
 had given her permission to go to her own 
 dress-maker. She even admired the reserve 
 with which Severine made use of this liberality. 
 
 So it may be imagined from what a height 
 she fell, when she learned that the creature 
 had been deceiving her for eight years, that 
 she had been her husband's mistress, and taken 
 advantage of his weakness and prodigality, 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. IQ^ 
 
 that she had stolen all along the line, and was 
 stealing still, and that, worst of all, she was a 
 party to the crime at Rose Villa. 
 
 All this she learned from the following let- 
 ter, signed " M. de C." and dated the evening 
 before: 
 
 " Dear sister, 
 
 " You are very unreasonable to get 
 into your head a project which can not suc- 
 " ceed and which has already cost so many tears 
 " and so much remorse. 
 
 "Admitting that the gentleman in question, 
 " who, in my opinion, is very unattractive, would 
 " be willing to marry you, it would not be long 
 "before he would know, what everybody, ex- 
 " cepting her knows already, thanks to the 
 " pratings of the defunct, who was our goose 
 "that laid the golden eggs. He would learn 
 "that you owe a part of your fortune to the 
 " liberality of the husband, and that the rest 
 "comes from despoiling his widow. 
 
ig2 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 I pray you, renounce a dream which can- 
 " not be realized. Settle your affairs and join 
 ** me as soon as possible in London, whence we 
 **will go to America, where we will lead a 
 
 gilded existence, beyond the reach of inquis- 
 ** itive eyes. 
 
 **Sut, if, neglecting my advice, you listen a 
 
 second time the promptings of jealousy, I 
 **will not be there to save you "from the conse- 
 ''quences. Before leaving, be sure to put your 
 
 accounts in order — look out for the balance 
 
 sheet ! But whatever may be your skill in fig- 
 " ures you still lack practice. We must have a 
 *' session of three or four hours in order to ex- 
 
 amine all your books and strengthen the 
 ** weak places. 
 
 **I will be at Chatenay at two o'clock to- 
 
 morrow night and we will employ the rest of 
 **the night in preparing a statement of which 
 will only see the ashes. 
 " In any event, she will not have anything to 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I93 
 
 complain of as she will still have a good 
 ** million. 
 
 *'As for me, I have made my last venture at 
 "the Bourse, although it has doubled our 
 'wealth. It is ended, I shall never go near it 
 
 * again. I just escaped, last month, and I 
 
 * shall remember it all my life. 
 
 "In short, I should be the most fortunate of 
 ' men if that stupid Cadornac had not exhibited 
 *my portrait at the last Salon. 
 " According to your desire, I have ordered 
 my dancer to annoy the patroness by singing 
 a silly song to-morrow at her gate ; but these 
 puerile means astonish me and can lead to 
 nothing. The gentleman never took any 
 notice of you, even when you were face to 
 face with him. You expect to dazzle him 
 with your fortune ; but he is rich himself, and 
 your money will not tempt him. 
 "Then, day after to-morrow— two o'clock in 
 the morning, precisely. Be sure to burn .this 
 letter. -M. DE C" 
 
 18 
 
194 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Angelique had no trouble to interpret these 
 initials: M. de C. was this Marquis de Chene- 
 railles, of whom Severine was said to be the .. 
 sister by "accident of marriage," and whom 
 she had won over, so she affirmed, to the cause 
 of her mistress at the time of the trial. 
 
 She had had the audacity to bring him to 
 her and reproach her for having received him 
 so coldly. 
 
 There was no doubt that the Marquis de 
 Chenerailles' title was a spurious one, but then 
 how did he get this title which nobody con- 
 tested and under which he had been sworn on 
 the jury of the Seine? Anything might be sus- 
 pected of such a bandit. He must have stolen 
 his papers and parchments from the genuine 
 Marquis, perhaps murdered him to obtain 
 them. 
 
 So the Baron de Noyal had kept Severine 
 Dahun even in the home of his wife. How- 
 infamous ! 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 But Angelique cared very little for that now. 
 She had learned in a few weeks after her mar- 
 riage that the husband, who had been forced 
 upon her by the cupidity of her family, was a 
 nullity. She felt very little regret for him al- 
 though she piously renewed the wreaths on 
 his tomb at Montparnasse. 
 
 But the first part of the letter interested her 
 \nore than all the rest. The deplorable prefer- 
 ences of the Baron were of little importance. 
 She did not care for the million which had 
 been stolen. She only remembered the cruel 
 suffering of the Court of Assizes, her reputa- 
 tion ruined forever by an acquittal, snatched 
 from the majority, thanks to the persuasive 
 eloquence of M. de Chenerailles. 
 
 The words, which have cost so many tears 
 and so much remorse,'' wei'e a revelation. The 
 murderer of Jeanne Caristie must be either the 
 sister or the brother ; for they were surely of 
 the same blood, as could be seen by their tawny 
 complexion. 
 
196 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Why had Severine Dahun concealed herself 
 behind the hedge in the afternoon? To learn 
 whether the man whom she wished to win, at 
 any cost, was not already bound to a second 
 rival by a sacred promise. 
 
 She had heard all ! 
 
 Angelique felt the cold sweat rim down her 
 face at the thought. 
 
 She was incapable of making any decision. 
 She was in need of support and counsel— of a 
 sincere friendship and a devotion without limit. 
 She would find this devotion in that one whose 
 hesitations she did not suspect. 
 
 "Robert," she said to herself, "loves me well 
 enough not to doubt my innocence. The 
 world still suspects me, and he braves the 
 world. He does not hesitate to protect me 
 with his name and acquit me a second time by 
 taking me for his wife. He is the only one 
 who is capable of protecting me." 
 
 So, fearing by a sudden departure to excite 
 the suspicions of the infamous woman, the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I97, 
 
 Baroness dc Noyal had sent immediately for 
 her fiance for whom she would wait at the 
 little door of the park. 
 
 Before going away Sylvia had said to her : 
 
 "I beg Madame to let James wait on her at 
 table. Madame can have confidence in James, 
 James will have an eye on everything and Ma- 
 dame has nothing to fear." 
 
 The Baroness de Noyal having partly recov- 
 ered from her emotion, made an effort to re- 
 move all traces of it from her face. She tried 
 to smile ; but this was too much for her. The 
 fires of spite, of indignation and of unsatisfied 
 vengeance burned in her eyes. Her mouth 
 was compressed but her lips trembled slightly. 
 
 By a great effort, however,, she was able to 
 appear almost the same as usual, and when the 
 bell announced dinner, she descended to the 
 dining-room with a firm step. 
 
 Severine was already at the table, her brow 
 contracted in a tragic frown. 
 
 Angelique sat down opposite to hen 
 
igS THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 When women set themselves to dissembling 
 their thoughts, they succeed better than the 
 most accomplished diplomats. 
 
 **Well!" said the Baroness to her steward, 
 **you look quite sad this evening. I wager 
 that you have made a mistake in your addition. 
 Do not let it take away your appetite or your 
 sleep. If I were in your place, I should not 
 keep any more accounts. Why should you 
 give yourself so much trouble? We receive 
 money— that is good— we use it, that is better 
 still, and provided that the outgo does not ex- 
 ceed the income, we are certain of not getting 
 into debt which is the essential thing.'' 
 
 There was so much point, to this good-hum- 
 ored pleasantry that it seemed to disturb 
 Severine. 
 
 She raised her eyes to her benefactress and 
 was reassured. Angelique was laughing. 
 James brought in the soup. 
 Where is Sylvia?" asked the governess. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. I99 
 
 *'She has gone out. She has my permission 
 until ten o'clock/' 
 
 The footman had arrayed himself in full 
 dress to wait on Madame. He gravely placed 
 the soup tureen upon the table and went out. 
 
 **My accounts are really a little behind, but 
 they will be audited by the day after to-mor- 
 row," said Mile. Dahun. 
 
 Audited is a very ugly word,*' said Ange- 
 lique mockingly. 
 
 They both ate daintily.- Great emotions 
 diminish the appetite. 
 
 After the repast was over, they withdrew to 
 the parlors as was usual. 
 
 Angelique opened the piano and played a 
 waltz of Chopin mechanically. 
 
 Severine occupied herself in making some 
 new handkerchiefs. What a precious auxiliary 
 was Mile. Dahun ! She never lost a minute. 
 To see her so orderly and industrious, one who 
 was not thoroughly acquainted with her past 
 would have said she was born to make the 
 
200 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 happiness of a good husband. As for those 
 who knew all about her, and who said nothing 
 to the person most interested, they only smiled 
 
 at her ways. 
 
 James, having no longer an excuse for re- 
 maining, left the two women alone fbr a couple^ 
 of hours. 
 
 Angelique waited impatiently for her stew- 
 ardess to retire to her room, whicji she usually 
 did at nine o'clock. Tired of the piano, she 
 drew near the table and turned over the leaves 
 of a Fashion Magazine. From time to time 
 she examined stealthily the countenance of 
 her enemy, which was in no wise reassuring. 
 
 Knowing that the Marquis would not come 
 to the villa before two o'clock in the morning, 
 the Baroness remained calm. But in spite of 
 the charm of a delightful spring evening, she 
 did not dream of walking in the park; she 
 would have been afraid to pass in front of the 
 hedge. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 201 
 
 Mile. Dahun broke the silence which was be- 
 coming embarrassing. 
 
 Madame the Baroness," said she brusquely, 
 has made me anxious for some time.'' 
 
 "Of what Baroness are you speaking?" asked 
 Angelique, feigning surprise. 
 
 The storm was rumbling. 
 
 **Why, of you, Madame, responded Severe. 
 
 "Then it is I who cause you anxiety, my 
 good Severe, and why?" 
 
 "Madame will blame me, perhaps, for inter- 
 esting myself in that which does not concern 
 me?" 
 
 "Certainly not. Severe, everything here con- 
 cerns you. I have left the care of my fortune 
 to you, and you have been the confidant of all 
 my troubles. This gives you the right to speak 
 to me plainly concerning whatever touches me 
 or my interests. And to begin with, do not 
 call me 'Madame the Baroness,' as big as 
 your arm. This is the fiftieth time I have said 
 so." 
 
202 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **0h! Madame, how good you are, and how 
 much I love you 
 
 Angelique turned away to hide the flush of 
 indignation which mounted to her cheek, and 
 gave to her eyes, usually so mild, an almost 
 ferocious expression. 
 
 **Go on Severe, you are anxious about me.'* 
 
 •*Very. I suspect that Madame is thinking 
 of marrying again." 
 
 **And what then?" 
 
 **I dread a second marriage for Madame. I 
 should like to have had Madame first prove 
 her innocence in the mysterious crime of this 
 accursed villa. Oh ! if I had only been with 
 you on that day how much more convincing 
 my testimony would have been! What a 
 fatality!" 
 
 "Oh yes! Mademoiselle Dahun, what a 
 fatality ! " 
 
 The governess looked at her, frightened by 
 the word "Mademoiselle" pronounced in a 
 threatening tone. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 203 
 
 But the Baroness de Noyal saw her impru- 
 dence, and repaired it by a burst of laughter. 
 
 **0h ! oh ! " said she, Severe does not wish 
 me to marry again ! And why? 
 
 ''I am going to tell Madame. The honey- 
 moon once over— and Madame has paid dear 
 to learn that it does not last long— it will not 
 be long before her husband perceives that the 
 world looks cross-wise at him; he will reflect, 
 he will doubt, like so many other idiots, and 
 then there will be trouble in the family." 
 
 So much impudence surpassed in alTdacity 
 anything that one could possibly have ex- 
 pected of the former mistress of Baron de 
 Noyal. 
 
 Then you believe, Severe, that the world 
 still doubts my innocence, and that it will make 
 Robert feel its contempt? 
 
 At that name, pronounced with a gentle, 
 loving voice, Severine let her work fall upon her 
 knees and turned very pale. 
 
204 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 How she loved this insignificant gentle- 
 man," whom the Marquis de Chenerailles found 
 so unattractive ! 
 
 " Then," said she, it is M. du Plessis that 
 Madame the Baroness wishes to marry?" 
 He has no doubt of it— not he ! " 
 Oh ! if Madame the Baroness only knew 
 M. du Plessis as I know him !" 
 
 It was now Angelique's turn to be jealous. 
 
 What do you mean by saying that?" 
 '*He has had a great many adventures," 
 said the stewardess. 
 
 Every man has before he ends the series 
 by a marriage for love or for reason which does 
 not prevent him from beginning over again, a 
 few years, if not a few months after the 
 wedding." 
 
 Severe bit her lips and a wicked wrinkle ap- 
 peared between her eyebrows. 
 
 *'He is a gambler," she continued, **an incur- 
 able gambler ! He has lost large sums on the 
 Bourse. He is on the verge of ruin, and he 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 20$ 
 
 poses before Madame as a disinterested and 
 unprejudiced person only that he may recover 
 himself." 
 
 But how do you know so much about M. 
 du Plessis, Severe?" 
 
 "Through my brother, the Marquis de Chen- 
 erailles, who is acquainted with him and knows 
 of his operations on the Bourse, and has seen 
 him put up fabulous sums at the club." 
 
 This denunciation roused the spirit of the 
 Baroness, and she could not, in spite of the 
 danger suspended over her head, dissimulate 
 any longer. 
 
 *'Ah! well! Mademoiselle," she cried, *'you 
 may say to the Marquis de Chenerailles, your 
 brother, perchance, that he will do well in 
 future not to interfere in my affairs." 
 
 Severe pushed back her chair with a sudden 
 movement and, rising at once, said: 
 
 Madame, the Baroness, did not talk in this 
 way of my brother when he took the trouble 
 to defend her." 
 
206 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''Be silent!^' 
 
 The two women measured one another with 
 a look. 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and James 
 entered, bringing the evening paper. 
 
 The intendant retired slowly without looking 
 around. 
 
 The disagreement was complete, but Severe 
 could not, in the opinion of the Baroness, sus- 
 pect the true cause. 
 
 *' James," she said, ''tell the cook to bring a 
 cup of tea to my room at once." 
 
 "Yes, Madame." 
 
 Angelique was suffocating. She went up 
 to her room. It was half past nine o'clock. 
 She would come down in a little while and hide 
 herself in a cluster of trees near the small 
 door. 
 
 For the first time since the iniquitous trial, 
 Angelique tried to pray. 
 
 *'My God," said she, ''make Sylvia find my 
 dear Robert. My God, protect me/* 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 207 
 
 The cook did not take her the tea until more 
 than a quarter of an hour had passed. 
 
 "You have been a long time/' said she gently. 
 
 "Excuse me, Madame; but I did not have 
 any tea, and I went to Mademoiselle for 
 some and she was arranging her papers and 
 made me wait five minutes." 
 
 A great fear came over the Baroness: what 
 if Severe should discover that some one had 
 been fumbling in her desk ! that some one had 
 read M. de Chenerailles' letter ! 
 
 Her throat burned with thirst. She poured 
 out a cup of tea and drank it all at one draught, 
 without any sugar. It left a bitter taste in her 
 mouth. " 
 
 "What bad tea that is!" she muttered. 
 Suddenly a terrible thought caused her to 
 utter a cry of distress. She turned out the tea 
 remaining in-the cup, examined it and smelt it. 
 
 " What if it were poison ! What if Jeanne 
 Caristie's murderer has not recoiled at a second 
 crime!" 
 
208 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 And the Baroness thought that such a crime 
 would again remain unpunished. The world 
 which believed her guilty, would not hesitate to 
 conclude that remorse had caused her to com- 
 mit suicide. 
 
 She looked at herself in the glass. She 
 was frightened at her pallor. An invincible 
 stupor overcame her. 
 
 She put her hand to her head from which all 
 thought was going away. 
 
 She took three steps towards the bell, ex- 
 tended her hands, called for help in a stifled 
 voice and fell in the middle of the room on the 
 thick carpet which deadened her fall. 
 
 She felt no pain, but she was still conscious, 
 for a few seconds, when all her faculties were 
 extinguished. 
 
 It is ended ! The Baroness de Noyal was 
 overwhelmed in a cataleptic sleep. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When she awoke, she was lying on her bed, 
 and Robert was sitting beside her with a smile 
 of infinite tenderness on his face. 
 
 *Ms it you Robert?'' 
 
 *'Oh! How could you be willing to die with- 
 out me 
 
 Parisian life had not yet destroyed the nat- 
 ural sensibility of Robert du Plessis. There 
 were tears in his eyes as he assisted in the re- 
 suscitation of the beautiful widow. 
 
 Angelique held out her hands to him. He 
 took them and bent over her until his lips 
 almost touched hers. 
 
 "Oh! What madness!" he exclaimed. 
 "Why do you despair of happiness? So you 
 wished to die rather than keep your promise 
 tome?'' 
 
 ^*To die?" said she trying to understand. 
 
 14 
 
210 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 Yes— and such a death! the most frightful 
 of all: asphyxiation by charcoal. How you 
 must have suffered, my poor dear, before you 
 lost consciousness!'* 
 
 Suffered? No, I did not suffer at all. I 
 slept that was all. Stop! I dreamed of you 
 and of myself. I dreamed we were receiving 
 the nuptial benediction at Venice. There were 
 beautiful young girls and handsome young 
 men, in shining garments, who looked at us 
 with envy." 
 
 This was too much for him. He took ad- 
 vantage of the situation and embraced her long 
 and fervently, but she did not protest. 
 
 "Angelique!'' 
 
 "Robert!" 
 
 **I love you." 
 
 But now memory returned to the lovely 
 sleeper, and all the drama of the evening rose 
 before her with surprising clearness. 
 
 She sat up. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 211 
 
 **No, Robert, I did not wish to die. That 
 would have been cowardly after your oath, in 
 which I have faith. Some one has tried to kill 
 me and gave me a narcotic, wait ! it was in the 
 tea. I had just drank it when I felt a weight 
 on my brain, on my heart. My limbs gave 
 way under me, I tried to ring, I called for help, 
 and then I fell in the middle of the room. I 
 knew nothing after that. How did you get- 
 here?" 
 
 ** Through the window." 
 
 *'What?" 
 
 "Yes, through the window. Sylvia had been 
 up and knocked at your door, and you had not 
 answered. The key-hole was stopped. There 
 was an odor of carbonic-acid from under your 
 door. The poor girl came to tell me and James 
 brought me a ladder." 
 
 The Baroness rose from the bed. An invin-. 
 cible terror took possession of her. 
 
 "I understand," said she. "Let us flee, 
 Robert. He would kill both of us!" 
 
2T2 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 ''Who then?" 
 
 **The Marquis de Chenerailles." 
 *'He!" cried Robert. 
 
 He ran to the window which was still wide 
 open. 
 
 *' James," said he, "have you any weapon?" 
 have my gun, monsieur,'' replied the En- 
 glishmen ; ''and I have my fists." 
 
 "Get your gun and wait for orders." 
 
 Then he went to the door and listened. 
 
 "There is nothing there," he said. 
 
 Returning to Angelique, he gave her a paper 
 which he had just taken from a stand. 
 
 "Did you write that Angelique?" 
 
 " I have written nothing," said she. 
 
 "Read that paper." 
 
 It ran as follows: 
 
 "Let no one be accused of my death! I 
 "murdered my cousin Jeanne Caristie. Ac- 
 " quitted through the mistake of the jury, I 
 "condemn myself. 
 
 Angelique Rabutin, the widow Noyal." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 21 3 
 
 ''Oh! the infamous wretches/' cried Ange- 
 lique. *' What an infernal plot ! They put me 
 to sleep first, then they lighted the charcoal 
 and stopped all the passages for the air ; and 
 last they wrote this note in imitation of my 
 writing." 
 
 Robert showed her the chafing-dish in which 
 coal was still burning in the fire-place beside a 
 pile of wet rags. 
 
 **Those rags were stuffed up the chimney 
 and closed it tightly when I got into the room. 
 The coal was three-fourths consumed. How 
 you escaped death is a mystery to me. I can 
 anly explain it by your cataleptic condition. 
 The assassin who prepared the narcotic gave 
 too large a dose through ignorance. It pro- 
 duced syncope. You did not breathe and that 
 saved you." 
 
 Angelique looked at the clock. It was half 
 past twelve. 
 
 "There is nothing to fear yet He will not 
 come until two o'clock in the morning.'' 
 
214 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 She told Robert all that had happened since 
 Sylvia's providential disclosures. The letter 
 had made so strong an impression that she 
 could repeat almost every word. 
 
 **What an idiot that Noyalwas!" thought 
 Robert. 
 
 She reported exactly the conversation with 
 Mile. Dahun after dinner, and the denunciation 
 of which he had been the object. 
 
 "Ah well, yes, I have gambled on the Bourse 
 and at the club," confessed Robert, "but I 
 have my excuse. When a man is rich and not 
 happy he kills time by ruining himself. This 
 is done every day to the joy of the lookers on. 
 But now that you love me, Angelique, and are 
 going to be my wife, I solemnly swear, not 
 that I will never play any more, that would be 
 i?oo hard, but never to play high." 
 
 Robert knew everything now. 
 
 "Ah!" said he, "the Marquis de Cheneraillcs 
 will be here at two o'clock. He shall be well 
 receive^. But this woman who pretends to 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 21 5 
 
 love me, will probably go out soon to meet her 
 brother in the park. And James will be in 
 front of the door with his gun; and brave 
 Sylvia who sustains James by her presence." 
 
 Perceiving that Angelique was looking at 
 the door in terror— he continued: 
 
 "You do not wish to stay here alone, and I 
 understand that. We are going to take our 
 precautions." 
 
 He assured himself that the door was se- * 
 
 curely locked* 
 
 Where is the key?" he asked. 
 
 **When I came in it was on the inside. It 
 has been taken away." 
 
 •'No," said a guttural voice, it was thrown 
 out of the window. I have it." 
 
 And James handed the key to M. du Plessis. 
 
 "Listen, James." 
 
 ** Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Have you only one gun?" 
 
 "Yes, monsieur, but if monsieur would like 
 a revolver, here it is," 
 
2l6 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 And he drew from his pocket a superb six- 
 shooter which Robert took immediately. 
 **The six balls are all here are they?'' 
 *'Oui, monsieur/' 
 
 **Tell Sylvia to keep well out of sight. You 
 post yourself in the little chalet which com- 
 mands the wall toward the country. I will 
 conceal myself behind the hedge. You will 
 soon see Mile. Dahun pass you and go to the 
 small door where she will wait for some one. 
 Do not stir, but when she returns with this per- 
 son, you will come up behind them and tak^ 
 aim. I will do the same in front. When you 
 hear me say: ^surrender!* you will cry: *halt 
 there ! ' They will be between two fires and 
 they will surrender, We will lock them up in 
 a secure place, and you will go for the com- 
 missaire." 
 
 "Of course, monsieur." 
 
 James disappeared from the window like a 
 hero of pantomime. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR, 217 
 
 In spite of these precautions, Angelique 
 could not decide to confront solitude in her 
 room, and Robert was obliged to help her de- 
 scend the ladder, which she did with wonder- 
 ful agility. Robert put out the lights, reclosed 
 the blinds and, revolver in hand, hastened 
 toward the hedge, followed by the Baroness. 
 
 Sylvia, finding that Madame intended to 
 share her lover's danger, clung close to James, 
 who was easily persuaded to take her with him 
 to the chalet. 
 
 All was once more silent and calm. It was 
 marvelous that Severine had heard nothing — 
 no doubt she was absorbed in her accounts. 
 
 The trap was set; would the game permit 
 itself to be taken? In an hour they would 
 know. It was not without fear that Mme. de 
 Noyal crouched beside her lover, in the 
 very place where the murderer of Jeanne 
 Caristie had concealed himself. She pressed 
 close to Robert, and said in a trembling voice: 
 
2l8 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 **I am afraid! This man is a desperate 
 ruffian." 
 
 Villains always surrender when they can 
 not defend themselves." 
 
 At half past one, they heard the gravel of 
 the park crackle under the feet of some one 
 coming from the house. 
 
 Thanks to the moonlight, they distinguished 
 Severine walking on the tips of her toes. 
 
 She was deathly pale. She stopped a mo- 
 ment as she was passing the hedge and they 
 heard her utter an **Ah!" which made them 
 fear that they had been discovered, 
 
 A heart-breaking sob followed the sigh and 
 the sister of the Marquis de Chenerailles slowly 
 withdrew, like Lady Macbeth wandering in the 
 midnight through her domain. 
 
 The hour was approaching. 
 
 Robert explained to Angelique the necessity 
 of going a short distance away from her. He 
 advanced with his back bent under the trees 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 2ig 
 
 and reached a turning where he could see the 
 scoundrels as they approached. 
 
 The Marquis was prompt to the minute. At 
 five minutes past two he was with his sister in 
 the main path of the park. The moment to 
 act had come. 
 
 James, faithful to his orders, was just coming 
 down from the chalet — with great long strides 
 he came up behind. 
 
 Robert stepped from his hiding-place. He 
 was not more than twenty steps from the 
 Marquis. 
 
 ''Surrender!" he cried, pointing the weapon 
 at him. 
 
 *'Halt!" said James in a voice of thunder. 
 
 The Marquis turned toward the Englishman, 
 He did not hesitate to defend his life at all 
 hazards. The bandit had a loaded revolver 
 in his pocket. 
 
 "I surrender," said he, advancing rapidly 
 towards James. 
 
 ''Halt!" repeated the latter. 
 
220 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 The Marquis made a bound to one side and 
 fired right and left six shots from the revolver. 
 Robert was not touched, but James, who was 
 slightly grazed on the left shoulder by one of 
 the balls, uttered a sharp cry of pain. 
 
 There was the sound of another shot and the 
 Marquis fell to the ground. 
 
 Two women rushed forward, the 'Baroness 
 trembling for Robert, and Sylvia for James. 
 
 At the sight of her brother extended on the 
 ground with his head shattered, Severe fainted. 
 
 "I am hurt," said James, ^^but that scoundrel 
 got his pay." 
 
 They carried the stewardess into the carriage- 
 house and locked the door. As had been ar- 
 ranged, James, without stopping to have his 
 wounds dressed, ran for the commissary of 
 police. 
 
 That magistrate arrived at five o'clock in the 
 morning, with his secretary, two inspectors 
 and a physician. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 221 
 
 He verified the de^th of the Marquis and 
 gave Severine, who had revived, into the hands 
 of his agents. 
 
 After writing out a long statement of the 
 facts as they were reported to him by the actors 
 in the drama, he searched the corpse. 
 
 TheMarquis was the bearer of a letter, which 
 he had received the evening before, and which 
 was sufficient to establish his identity. It 
 came from a dangerous criminal, named Ren- 
 ard, who, having taken it . into his head to visit 
 the Exposition of Paintings one Sunday, had 
 recognized, in the portrait signed Cadornac, 
 his friend Dahun, an old companion, who, like 
 himself, had escaped from Noumea. 
 
 All the accounts and private papers which 
 were found in the governess' secretary were 
 seized and among them was the letter signed 
 **M. de C.,'' which had been instrumental in 
 clearing up the mystery of Rose Villa. 
 
 Severe Dahun was subjected to a preliminary 
 
222 THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 
 
 examination, but she only gave incoherent re- 
 sponses. 
 
 As the commissaire was about to take her 
 away, she asked permission to go into her 
 room to get her cloak. The magistrate con- 
 sented, hoping to surprise her in the act of try- 
 ing to abstract some compromising papers. 
 With a rapid movement Severe seized a bottle 
 from the cupboard where she was searching, 
 opened it, and put it to her mouth. 
 
 The officers threw themselves upon her. 
 They were too late. 
 
 "I have not two minutes to live," she said to 
 them, but I have escaped the scaffold, and 
 that is all I want. It is I who killed Jeanne 
 Caristie. It is I who have just tried to poison 
 the Baroness de Noyal." 
 
 *^I pardon you/' murmured the Baroness, 
 frozen with terror by this frightful scene. 
 
 Her brother, the Marquis, had already died 
 in horrible convulsions. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS JUROR. 223 
 
 ) 
 
 They were neither judged nor condemned. 
 What good would it have done? The Baroness 
 did not even reclaim what they had stolen from 
 her. 
 
 The examination was made without any 
 noise, but it was a serious one; more serious 
 than certain verdicts returned by twelve jurors. 
 
 It was public opinion, that is the entire press, 
 which proclaimed the innocence of Angelique, 
 and this absolution was worth a great deal 
 more than a decree of acquittal. 
 
 Instead of going to Venice to be married 
 under the vaults of Saint Mark, she married at 
 the Madeleine, in presence of all Paris, Robert, 
 who regrets nothing and is the happiest of men. 
 
 THE END. 
 
1