the Notary did not mean that he was wonderful as a tailor, but he
answered to the suggestion.

"You liked that last coat I made for you, then," he said drily;
"I believe you wore it when you were shot. It was the thing for your
figure, man."

The Notary looked in the large mirror opposite with sad content. "Ah, it
was a good figure, the first time I went to that hut at Four Mountains!"

"We can't always be young. You have a waist yet, and your chest-barrel
gives form to a waistcoat. Tut, tut! Think of the twins in the way of
vainglory and hypocrisy."

"'Twins' and 'hypocrisy'; there you have struck the nail on the head,
tailor. There is the thing I'm going to tell you about."

After a cautious glance at the door and the window, Dauphin continued in
quick, broken sentences: "It wasn't an accident at Four Mountains--not
quite. It was Paulette Dubois--you know the woman that lives at the
Seigneur's gate? Twelve years ago she was a handsome girl. I fell in
love with her, but she left here. There were two other men. There was a
timber-merchant,--and there was a lawyer after. The timber-merchant was
married; the lawyer wasn't. She lived at first with the timber-merchant.
He was killed--murdered in the woods."

"What was the timber-merchant's name?" interrupted Charley in an even
voice.

"Turley--but that doesn't matter!" continued the Notary. "He was