Fandor was talking to himself—an inveterate habit of his—as he sat in the cab which was carrying him to the Palais de Justice.

"Beyond question, I ought to have examined that paper they have stolen from Mademoiselle Elizabeth. I should have looked through it at the first opportunity. That sequence of names; those dates, which seem to almost coincide with the different criminal attempts, probably relate to the mysterious plan which the assassins are carrying out systematically.... But, that means there are to be more victims, and we shall witness fresh tragedies!... I am not at all easy about Elizabeth either!... Who the deuce could have telephoned to her at the convent?... Perhaps what I am going to do is stupid, but no chance must be neglected.... I wonder if I shall learn anything worth knowing at the court to-day?...

"When they arrested these smugglers, five months ago, I recollect perfectly that Monsieur Thomery's name was mentioned in connection with the business.... If I only held the connecting link of interest in my hands, which would make it clear why all these people—Jacques Dollon, the Baroness de Vibray, Princess Sonia Danidoff, Barbey-Nanteuil, and even Elizabeth Dollon—have been the victims of the horrible band I am pursuing.... The motive? Evidently robbery! But there must be some other reason, for—and it is a significant fact—all these people know one another, meet one another, or at least are either clients of the Barbey-Nanteuil bank, or are friends of Monsieur Thomery.... It's the devil's own mystery!"

JÉrÔme Fandor had arrived at the Palais de Justice. He crossed the great hall des Pas-Perdus and entered the Assize Court.

The trial of the Cooper and his accomplices was a small affair, and had not attracted many listeners, for these smuggling and coining cases were apt to be dull. As a matter of fact, there would not have been a soul present, if the accused had not had the most popular of counsels to defend them—MaÎtre Henri Robart!

Fandor joined a group who were on familiar terms evidently, and, although he had not seen her for many a day, he at once recognised Mother Toulouche by her remarkable appearance and grotesque get up. He had had so many other irons in the fire, that he had not followed this smuggling case at all closely: he was surprised, therefore, to see Mother Toulouche in the little passage adjoining the court, for he had the impression that the old receiver of stolen goods had been under lock and key for some weeks.... She was now being interviewed by one of his colleagues. Fandor went up to them.

Though she had not been accused of anything so far, the old storekeeper was vehemently protesting her innocence.

"Yes," she declared to her interviewer, "it is abominable, when such things are discovered all of a sudden!"

Mother Toulouche went on to explain that on Clock Quay she rented a small shop for the sale of curiosities: that she was an honest woman, who had never wronged a soul by as much as a farthing: all she asked was to be left in peace to earn a decent living, so that she could retire from business some day or other.... Everyone had a right to ask as much as that!... Her store consisted of two rooms and an underground cellar, in which she had put a quantity of old odds and ends, when she had moved to her present abode.... She never descended to this cellar, never at all: she was far too much afraid of rats to venture down there! Not she! But, one day, if you please, when she was quietly engaged in mending some old clothes, the police had suddenly burst into her store!... And they had accused her of receiving smuggled goods and false money, and she didn't know what more besides!...

The police, not content with this, had made her go down to the cellar to find out whether or no there were such things in the second cellar belonging to her store!... Who had been most surprised then? Why who but Mother Toulouche, who, until that very minute, had not known that this second cellar existed! How then was she to know that it communicated with the sewer, still less that the sewer opened on to the Seine, and that by the Seine arrived bales of smuggled goods, which were concealed in her cellar by the smugglers?... Fortunately, the judges had understood this, and after twenty-four hours' detention on suspicion, Mother Toulouche had been set at liberty!

At first, she had declared that she did not know the accused persons summoned to appear that day, the Cooper in particular; to tell the truth, she had made a mistake; she did know them, through having met them a long time ago, when she lived near la Capelle; so long ago was it that she had forgotten all about it! Anyhow, she wanted to have done with the business!

From the very beginning of the trial, Mother Toulouche had been disagreeably struck by the inquisitorial glances and pointed questions of the Public Prosecutor throughout the proceedings. Now, in her turn, the old storekeeper was questioning her audience, trying hard to find out what would be the probable attitude of the magistrate, when she herself should be summoned to the witness-box.

"Witness!... Mother Toulouche!"

Fandor smiled as he listened to the loquacious old storekeeper, for he knew how much faith was to be put in her veracity and respectability!... It was pretty clear that she was every whit as guilty as the handcuffed individuals now in the dock. As she had not been arrested, it simply meant that, in Juve's opinion, this was not an opportune moment to put a stopper on the nefarious activities of this bad old woman.

At this precise moment, Fandor recognised Juve. He was leaving a group of barristers and officials, who had been hugely entertained by his stupid answers and remarks. Yes, it was Juve, so admirably made up and disguised that Fandor had difficulty in recognising him. Here was Cranajour on the scene! He approached Mother Toulouche and stood there—a Cranajour who was the picture of gaping imbecility!

"You, too?" cried Mother Toulouche, looking askance at him. "Are you one of the witnesses?"

Cranajour's reply was a comical grimace. He scratched his beard, remarking finally:

"I have forgotten! I don't know!"

His audience burst into roars of laughter: Fandor laughed loudest of all!

One of MaÎtre Henri Robart's juniors whispered in Fandor's ear, with an air of giving the journalist a piece of information worth having.

"A simple-minded soul, that!—a kind of idiot! You can guess that, at the preliminary inquiry, they soon found that out!... He may be heard—or he may not?"

Fandor nodded. He found it difficult not to laugh.

"Thanks many for the information," he stammered. The young barrister did not understand the ironical tone of our journalist.

Mother Toulouche was envying Cranajour.

"You're in luck, you are—to be too silly to go and talk to those inquisitive fellows in there! Eh?"

Conversations stopped. The little low door, giving entrance to the court, had just opened: an usher announced:

"The case is resumed!... Witnesses this way!... The woman Toulouche?... It is your turn!..."

They jostled and pushed their way through the narrow entrance in order to get into the court room quickly.

Fandor, however, instead of following the crowd, had grasped the simple Cranajour by the shoulder, and shouted loud enough to be heard by those who might have been surprised at his action.

"You duffer of a Cranajour! Go along with you! You're the man for my money, old fellow! Here's something for a glass—but come with me for five minutes: I want to interview you and make a jolly good article out of it!"

Fandor went off, followed by the detective. When they were quite away from everyone, Fandor turned quickly to his friend.

"Well, Juve?"

"Nothing, so far...."

"You have not run in the whole gang?"

"Not I!" replied Juve. "These are only the supernumeraries, and there are some of them out of my reach!... Look here, Fandor," continued Juve in a low tone. "You will see someone in court presently whose presence will astonish you—it is an aviator—the aviator Emilet.... Well, my boy, I have a notion that this fellow is no stranger to all these goings-on!... But patience!... besides, you know, Fandor, it's not my way of doing things to put the bracelets on mediocrities such as he: I fly higher!... Good-bye. Shall see you later on!"

Fandor asked, in a low tone:

"Shall I remain for the sitting?"

"Yes," said Juve. "It is quite likely that I shall not be present; and it would be a good thing if you were to get a general idea of this affair: you may pick up some useful information."

"Juve, I very much wish to have a longer talk with you—there are things I want to say—to tell you!"

Steps could be heard coming in their direction: the two men separated at once; but Juve had just time to say:

"This evening then, at eight, I shall come to your place, Fandor. Expect me!"

Half an hour later, Fandor entered the court room....

The speech for the Crown had just been concluded.

The arrest of these smugglers, now on their trial, had made some stir, about five months ago. Public opinion had been aroused almost to fever pitch, when it became known that the accused had, for nearly two years past, succeeded in getting through into Paris, without having paid town dues, quantities of the most highly taxed articles, and thus had accumulated a large store of riches in contraband goods and money. They owed their arrest to the betrayal of a wretched dealer, who was dissatisfied with his remuneration.

The journalists had, after their manner, amplified all the details, had exaggerated the realities, and had given a romantic colouring to the various incidents in the varied lives and adventures of this daring band of smugglers.

They had been represented as perfect gentlemen, who had formed themselves into a marvellously organised Black Band, led by a chief having right of life or death over them: a band fertile in tricks and extraordinary stratagems, who massed their plunder in immense vaults and cellars under the very heart of Paris, in the Isle of the CitÉ, and communicating with the river, which, under the eyes of the police, served to bear the barges laden with their booty.

Cellars and vaults in the Isle of the CitÉ!

"Well," thought Fandor, "men organised into such a powerful association in this part of Paris might well put one on the track of strange discoveries regarding the mysterious events connected with the Jacques Dollon affair!"

Then, having spoken to his colleagues on the press, Fandor turned in the direction of the jury and set himself to follow attentively MaÎtre Henri Robart's speech for the defence.