aside the curtains, and exclaimed, " Madame has
been murdered!" He then went to the wardrobe,
and took out one of the bars of the window,
to give more light. The Dame Mazel was
seen stretched on her bed in a pool of blood.
Her face, neck, and hands, were covered with
wounds.

At this sad spectacle, Lebrun's first thought
seems to have been that robbery could have
been the only motive for his mistress's murder.
He ran to the strong-box and raised it; the
lock was uninjured. " She has not been robbed,"
he said. " What can that mean?"

On examination, fifty wounds, apparently
made with a knife, were found on the body.
Not one of them in itself was mortal. Loss of
blood was the sole cause of death. The victim
might, therefore, have called for help. In the
bed was found a piece of a cravat with
embroidered ends stained with blood, and a napkin
twisted into a nightcap, still retaining the form
of the head which had worn it. The napkin,
much blood-stained, bore the mark of the house.
It was presumed that the victim, struggling in
self-defence, had snatched from her assassin this
bit of cravat and this improvised cap. Between
the slashed fingers of the defunct were a few
hairs, quite unlike Madame Mazel's hair, and
which she had evidently torn from the
murderer in her moment of despair. A knife was
found in the ashes of the hearth. The two
bell-pulls were tied in two knots to the curtain-
rod, so that pulling them had no effect on the
bells. The key of the chamber was not on the
chair where it was usually placed every night;
there was no trace of violence on the doors,
either of the chamber or the ante-chamber. The
two doors opening on the back staircase were
fastened inside with hooks. The key of the closet
was in its customary place on the bolster.
When the closet was opened, they found there
the purse in which Madame Mazel kept her
card-money; it contained nearly three hundred
francs. The key of the strong-box was still in
the closet; they opened it, and it contained
several bags full of silver, an open purse, at
the bottom of which was a half-louis-d'or, and
all the victim's jewels, valued at fifteen thousand
francs. Lastly, Madame Mazel's pockets
contained eighteen pistoles in gold. At first sight,
it was easy to suppose that theft had not been
the motive of the murder.

On searching Lebrun, they found upon him
the key of the pantry, and a master-key which
would open the first turn of the bedroom lock.
This fixed suspicion on him, and he was not
allowed to go out of sight. They tried on his
head the napkin twisted into a cap; it was
much too small for him. They examined his
hands, which he had not yet washed. He was
made to wash them: they bore no trace of
blood—not a sign of a scratch. His box was
inspected; nothing suspicious was found.
Nevertheless, the master-key seemed to witness
against him. He and his wife were immediately
arrested.

Next day, the 29th of November, the lieutenant-
criminel made a fresh inquiry. The idea
struck him, a little late, to examine the back
staircase. He found on one of the lowest
steps, a new rope, very long, ending in a triple
iron hook, and tied into knots at intervals so
as to serve as a sort of ladder. The same day,
they found in a corner of the attic a shirt whose
front and sleeves were bloody, and a cravat
collar stained with blood at both ends. If this
linen belonged to Lebrun, it was surprising that
no marks of recent washing were to be found
on his hands or on his neck.

An expert wig-maker affirmed that there was
no resemblance, either in colour or stoutness,
between the hairs found in the victim's fingers
and Lebrun's hair. Cutlers interested in the
task, declared that there was no relation between
the knives in Lebrun's possession and the knife
which the murderer had thrown into the fire.
None of the ropes in the pantry, in the house,
in Lebrun's lodging, had anything to do
with the knotted rope of the back staircase.
These negative proofs of innocence had no
weight. The prosecution closed their eyes to
them. All they would see was, that, although
Madame Mazel had taken back her master-key,
Lebrun still possessed another; that when they
talked of apoplexy, he expressed his belief that
"something worse" had occurred. His motive
was impatience to touch the legacy of six
thousand francs, and the rest. The rope on the
back stairs (which had not been used, as the
knots were not drawn tight), and the bloody
shirt hidden in the garret, were merely tricks
to direct suspicion to some one else; while every
circumstance implied a complete knowledge of
the ways of the house.

Nevertheless, seamstresses called in to
express an opinion on the linen found, declared
that there was no resemblance between the
bloody shirt and Lebrun's linen. Moreover,
there was a femme-de-chambre who believed she
remembered washing a singular shirt for a lackey
of the name of Berry who had been turned out
of the house for dishonesty. Another said she
had seen Berry wear an embroidered cravat
resembling the bit torn from the murderer's neck.
This significant clue was not followed up.

Moreover, the Dame Mazel had three sons,
in high positions. The eldest, René de
Savonnières, was a counsellor of parlement; the
second, Georges de Savonnières, lord of
Lignères, was a treasurer of France for the
generality of Paris; the youngest, Michel de
Savonnières, was a major in the regiment de Piemont.
Now, fifteen years before, René, the eldest, had
married a young person whose scandalous
conduct provoked Madame Mazel's high displeasure.
The angry dame obtained against her
daughter-in-law a lettre de cachet, with which
she had kept her imprisoned more than twelve
years in a provincial convent. But the
counsellor was very fond of his wife, and consented
to the separation only from a sense of filial
duty, perhaps also through fear of the effect
which resistance might have on his mother's
will. Young Madame de Savonnières had several