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Alas! at the first glance she recognised in Olivier Brusson the young man who had thrown the letter into her carriage on the Pont Neuf, and who had brought her the casket with the jewels. Now all doubt was gone, La Regnie's terrible suspicions completely justified. Olivier belonged to the atrocious band, and had, doubtless, murdered his master! And Madelon!
Crowds of people, in threatening temper, often collected before La Regnie's Palais, crying, "Give us out Olivier Brusson! he is innocent!" even throwing stones at the windows, so that La Regnie had to seek the protection of the Marechaussée. Many days elapsed without Mademoiselle Scuderi's hearing anything on the subject of Olivier Brusson.
He listened silently to what she had to say, and then, with a quiet smile, answered in the words of Boileau, "Le vrai peut quelquefois n'etre point vraisemblable." He showed her that there were the most grave and marked suspicions against Olivier. That La Regnie's action was by no means severe or premature, but wholly regular; indeed, that to do otherwise would be to neglect his duty as a Judge.
For a considerable time La Regnie's efforts, assiduous as they were, were unsuccessful, and it was the lot of the much overworked Desgrais to discover the most secret lurking-hole of the crime.
"Not only," said Miossens, "was the moon shining brightly, so that I recognised the old goldsmith perfectly well, but this morning, at La Regnie's, I saw the dagger with which he was stabbed. It is mine; I know it by the ornamentation of the handle. And as I was within a pace of the young man, I saw his face quite distinctly, all the more because his hat had fallen off.
She said everything she could think of, with the best eloquence at her command, which might be expected to soften La Regnie's hard heart.
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