“Notwithstanding this absence of proof, I had seen enough to be convinced that at ten minutes past nine that morning my brother had been killed. I went to bed in a very agitated frame of mind.
“As you may imagine, I did not sleep very well, but at length fatigue conquered my agitation and I got a little rest.
“Then all the circumstances came before me in the form of a dream. I saw the scene as it had passed. I saw the man who had killed him. I heard his name. He is called M. de Chateau Renaud.”
“Alas! that is all too true,” I replied; “but what have you come to Paris for?”
“I have come to kill the man who has killed my brother.”
“To kill him?”
“Oh, you may rest assured, not in the Corsican fashion from behind a wall or through a hedge, but in the French manner, with white gloves on, a frilled shirt, and white cuffs.”
“And does Madame de Franchi know you have come to Paris with this intention?”
“She does.”