there deliberately. A piece of cloth was found in the victim's hand;
therefore it was put there by the murderers themselves.

"Madame de Tremorel's body is disfigured by many dagger-strokes, and
horribly mutilated; therefore she was killed by a single blow--"

"Bravo, yes, bravo," cried M. Plantat, visibly charmed.

"Eh! no, not bravo yet," returned M. Lecoq. "For here my thread
is broken; I have reached a gap. If my deductions were sound, this
hatchet would have been very carefully placed on the floor."

"Once more, bravo," added the other, "for this does not at all
affect our general theory. It is clear, nay certain, that the
assassins intended to act as you say. An unlooked-for event
interrupted them."

"Perhaps; perhaps that's true. But I see something else--"

"What?"

"Nothing--at least, for the moment. Before all, I must see the
dining-room and the garden."

They descended at once, and Plantat pointed out the glasses and
bottles, which he had put one side. The detective took the glasses,
one after another, held them level with his eye, toward the light,
and scrutinized the moist places left on them.

"No one has drank from these glasses," said he, firmly.