I entreated M. Grandjean to see things as they were: "Try to understand my position," I said. "You are a friend of M. Buisson. You know exactly what my circumstances are, and you, M. Leydet, have known me for years.... Are you not both aware that the marriage of my daughter to M. Buisson's son will be broken off unless we get at the truth? M. Buisson, like every one else, is convinced that the affair has been abandoned.... You can deny this ... if it is wrong; you can declare that the detectives are at work... if they are! You know that I am innocent. Well, say so; do something.... It is your duty."

M. Grandjean, instead of replying to my question, stammered: "But, Madame, it is appalling.... You have raised the newspapers; things are in such a state that we cannot leave the Palace without being pestered and mobbed by an army of reporters. Life for us has become an inferno...."

"And what of my life?" I exclaimed.

M. Grandjean did not seem to hear, and pursued: "The clues are now being followed not only by our inspectors, but by the journalists, who take it upon themselves to act as detectives!"...

I interrupted again: "That is what you hate; what frightens you.... You are fully aware that you attached no importance to a great deal of information I gave you on various suspicious persons who came to the Impasse Ronsin, a few weeks before the crime, and about other facts and clues. If you, at the time, did make a move in any direction, it was because the attitude of the newspapers forced you to do so.... But it is too late now, after five or six months, to ask for alibis from those whom you suspect.... You shrug your shoulders. You look upon the matter in the same way as your chief.... I am more and more convinced that the case has been given up; I am even led to believe that it was given up very shortly after the crime! Well then, M. Grandjean, if you refuse to do what I have asked, I shall take the newspapers into my confidence, and they will help me...."

Then, turning to M. Leydet, I added: "Will you kindly draw up a document by which Maître Aubin becomes my avocat-conseil?"

M. Leydet, deeply moved, exclaimed: "I beg you to reflect, to wait... before putting this affront on us.... I have spared no effort.... I am an honest man...."

"I know that, M. Leydet," I replied. "But you have one great fault: you are a friend of mine. It would have been better for the public if the judge in charge of this case had been some one I did not know at all. I have been told that there was some thought of arresting me after your examination at Boulogne. If you had anything to do with preventing my arrest, I am sorry, for you would have had to release me at once, and then public opinion, satisfied that there was no case against me whatever, would have taken my part instead of accusing me."

The paper making Maître Aubin my avocat-conseil was duly signed.

A new life began for me, a life of indescribable activity, of feverish, unending rushing to and fro, a nerve-racking life of hopes and fears, of constant surprise and anxieties.... I received every day from fifty to eighty visits from journalists belonging not only to the Parisian, but to provincial and foreign newspapers as well. Each had his clue and his theory; each had made some startling discovery and wanted my views on it, each told me that his journal was the only one which was really on my side, and each craved exclusive information.... I received them in a house crowded with workmen who every few minutes came to ask for instructions! Shoals of letters and telegrams reached me, from journalists who assured me of their devotion, or wanted an immediate reply to an "all-important" question. Anonymous letters came in greater numbers than ever, some threatening my life and others denouncing Couillard, Wolff, or Balincourt—as usual. And there were letters from relations and acquaintances who spurred me on—as if I needed it!—and assured me the murderers would be found, that the newspapers would discover them, no matter what it cost to do so. Yet other letters, thrown over my garden wall, and anonymous of course, dotted the lawns and hung in the trees!... And I read them all eagerly....