“There can be no doubt about it,” he murmured. “It is to the crime committed to-day that these pressing recommendations relate; and, directed as they are to Vincent Favoral, they attest his complicity. It was he who had charge of finishing the Van Klopen affair; in other words, to get rid of Lucienne. It was he, I’d wager my head, who had treated with the false coachman.”
He remained for over a minute absorbed in his own thoughts, then,
“But who is the author of these recommendations to Vincent Favoral? Do you know that, M. le Marquis?” he said.
They looked at each other; and the same name rose to their lips,
“The Baroness de Thaller!”
This name, however, they did not utter.
The commissary had placed himself under the gasburner which gave light to the Fortin’s office; and, adjusting his glasses, he was scrutinizing the note with the most minute attention, studying the grain and the transparency of the paper, the ink, and the handwriting. And at last,
“This note,” he declared, “cannot constitute a proof against its author: I mean an evident, material proof, such as we require to obtain from a judge an order of arrest.”
And, as Marius was protesting,
“This note,” he insisted, “is written with the left hand, with common ink, on ordinary foolscap paper, such as is found everywhere. Now all left-hand writings look alike. Draw your own conclusions.”