M. Mayeur, as though he guessed the secret hostility of his subordinate, said to him—
“Just go and see if Colonel Vallenot has come from the Ministry.”
The clerk stretched himself; showed Baudoin his cigarette-case, with a grimace which signified, “I’m just going to smoke one,” and left the room. M. Mayeur followed him, bolted the door, and returning to Baudoin, said—
“I would rather we were alone in discussing the subject I am engaged on. The slightest indiscretion in so delicate a matter might ruin everything. Just now you gave me a piece of advice which I might follow to advantage. Still, you did not tell me everything. You are better informed than you have yet shown. Perhaps they are only suspicions, still, I am sure you are quite determined to help justice in an energetic pursuit of your master’s murderers. Why have you not perfect confidence in me? We have the same object in view. Come, M. Baudoin, be frank and open. You imagine you have discovered some means of laying hands on the culprits?”
Baudoin raised his head, and looking fixedly at the magistrate, saw that he was in passionate earnest. He thought that he had really an ally in him, and that professional secrecy guaranteed his discretion, and accordingly made up his mind to speak.
“Well! yes, I have a means by which we shall lay our hands on the culprits.”
“First of all, swear that what I am about to say shall not be repeated.”
“But—,” protested the judge.
“Take it or leave it,” declared Baudoin, bluntly. “I am risking my life and that of others as well. I shall say nothing, unless you give me your word of honour not to repeat to a living soul what I am going to entrust to you.”