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"And at what hour should I present myself before the judge?" "Immediately." "But my son has not breakfasted!" Madame Cormier exclaimed. "At least, take something before going, my dear child." "It is not worth while." He made a sign to her that she should not insist. His throat was too tight to swallow a piece of bread, and it was important that he should not betray his emotion before this agent.

"You know," she said at last, "how I saw, accidentally, from this place" she pointed to one of the windows " the face of the assassin of my unfortunate tenant, Monsieur Caffie." "Mademoiselle Cormier has told me," he replied in a tone of ordinary conversation.

With him it was a matter of business to note the typical traits that distinguish one face from another, and in a long practice he had acquired an accuracy Madame Dammauville could not possess. Among the persons he knew, it seemed to him that the one in the best condition to give certainty to the proof was Madame Cormier.

As to the experiment made on the mother, it was decisive enough to inspire him with confidence. If Madame Cormier, who had seen him so often and for so long a time, and who thought of him at every instant, did not recognize him, how was it possible that Madame Dammauville, who had only seen him from a distance and for a few seconds, could recognize him after several months?

And yet when he returned home in the evening she told him that her mother was not well, and begged him to examine her. This examination proved that Madame Cormier was in her usual health; but she complained that her breath failed her during the day she had feared syncope. "If you are willing," Phillis said, "I will sleep near mamma. I am afraid of not hearing her at night, and she is suffering."

There were duties he owed her, and terribly heavy were those he owed her mother and Florentin. He did all he could for Florentin, but this was not all that he owed them. Florentin was in prison; Madame Cormier fell into a mournful despair, growing weaker each day; and Phillis, in spite of her elasticity and courage, bent beneath the weight of injustice.

"And it is this honest boy that they accuse of assassination!" cried Madame Cormier, beginning to weep. It required several minutes for Phillis to quiet her a little. "We must think of him, mamma; we must not give up." "You are going to do something, are you not, my little Phillis?" "I am going to find Doctor Saniel." "He is a doctor, not a lawyer."

"You see, Florentin," Madame Cormier interrupted, smiling at her son. But he shook his head. "However, the opinion of all has a value," Phillis cried. "Speak lower," Florentin said.

"I assure you that I am in your place, and that your trouble is mine, only it does not betray itself in the same manner. But what is your idea?" "It is to find Valerius and tell him all." "And who will answer to us for Valerius's discretion?" asked Madame Cormier. "Would it not be the greatest imprudence that you could commit? One cannot play with a secret of this importance."

They will look well in my report and will prove that I pushed my investigations thoroughly." "One is a merchant in the Rue Truffant, and is called Monsieur Blanchet; the other is a young man just arrived from America, and his name is Monsieur Florentin Cormier." "You say Florentin Cormier?" the agent asked, who remembered this name was that of one who had seen Caffie on the day of the crime.