M. Daburon’s surprise was immense. What, not an alibi? Nothing? This could be no snare nor system of defence. Was, then, this man as cunning as he had imagined? Doubtless. Only he had been taken unawares. He had never imagined it possible for the accusation to fall upon him; and it was almost by a miracle it had done so.
The magistrate slowly raised, one by one, the large pieces of paper that covered the articles seized in Albert’s rooms.
“We will pass,” he continued, “to the examination of the charges which weigh against you. Will you please come nearer? Do you recognize these articles as belonging to yourself?”
“Yes, sir, they are all mine.”
“Well, take this foil. Who broke it?”
“I, sir, in fencing with M. de Courtivois, who can bear witness to it.”
“He will be heard. Where is the
