The Sun.
London, England, 1847-09-03 00:00:00

PTEMBER 3,

ct iuld not agree with any of them. Madame de Pra.si:
Hi 1 told me that I should reside alone with the eh
di en in one side of the hotel, that I should take Y
to eels alone with them, and that I should allow them
to erely to see their mother. I refused to consent to
tl iese propositions, and declared that I would not accept
e situation that was offered. The Duke then decided
th at the governess and the children should take their
?als with the family, but that the children should
re main under her exclusive control and direction.
al t a latter period, during my stay et the Château of
andreuil, where I was alone with the Duchess, the
tat tter took part in the readings and direction of the
sty tidies of her children. On his arrival, the Duke,
ha ving learned this, was very much dissatisfied, and
expressed that dissatisfaction somewhat strongly,
whereupon the Duchess abstained. We were then
established at the Château de Praslin, where the
governess and the children lived entirely apart, ex-
cept as regarded the meals, which were taken en
famille. I never endeavoured to keep away the chil-
dren from their mother, but there existed between the
, Duke and Madame de Praslin causes of difference
ihich I could not prevent. I was perhaps greatly
vcrung to accept that position, but I never wilfully
endeavoured to pain the Duchess. The Duchess ex-
pressed ,ssristiments of jealousy towards me, but which
had not thd least foundation in the world. Still,
generally, the Vuehess was on good terms with me,
without being affeelionate ; and that often mused me
to forget her injustice. I had no fortune, no friend
at Paris. I was obliged to !Seep my position, with so
much the more resignation that the Duke had pro-
mised to give me a pension if I had the courage—
such was the term he used—to terminate the education
of his three eldest girls, notwithstanding the annoy-
ance which that task might occasion mo.
Did the pension which you speak of form part of
the first terms agreed on between you and the
Duke ?—No ; all that was spoken of was an annual
salary.
Had the Duke fixed the amount of the pension ?
—No • but I always reckoned that it would be
1,500 i. a year, or 500 f. for each of the girls. Such
I believed to be his decided intention, according to a
conversation which we had together.
It is certain that, in the latter months especially,
the Duchess de Praslin had conceived a very violent
jealousy against you, and that she had no doubt as
Ito the intimate relations which she supposed to exist
between you and her husband ? Never ; no, Sir,
never ! The Duchess may have said it to others, but
she never said it to me. Two years ago, when in
Corsica, with my pupils, on one of the estates of the
Marshal Sebastiani' a journal published that I had
taken to flight with the Duke de Praslin. In con-
sequence of this I resolved to leave the house im-
mediately; but the Marshal, father of the Duchess,
opposed this, representing that such a measure would
be a confirmation of the rumour. The Duchess
showed great coldness and dissatisfaction at seeing me
abandon my determination and remain in the house.
However, this seemed gradually to wear away ; and,
especially within the last year, the Duchess became
kind towards me. I was, then, completely thunder-
struck when, two months ago, the Abbe Gallard
came to me and said that my presence was a cause of
trouble in the house, and that I could not remain.
We have before us a letter, without date and with-
out signature, which we present to you. It appears
to us to have been addressed to you at no distant date
by the Duchess de Praslin, and in it she says, that if
it be forbidden to sleep without being reconciled to
one's neighbour, it appears to her that a new year is
a still stronger reason to put an end to all dissensions
and to forget all griefs. She tells you that it is with
a true heart that she extends her hand to you, and
begs of you to forget the past, as she does herself, and
to live for the future in good intelligence with her.
There existed, then, at that period of the year, sub-
jects of complaint between you ?—This letter was not
written in the month of January last, but in January,
1846. It was then that she sent it to me with a
bracelet, which she gave me as a new year's gift.
She had been cold to me, but during the last winter
she was much better disposed towards me. Every
time she went to the theatre she gave me a place in
her box, and when she went with her daughters to a
pleasure party she offered to take me. I forgot to
state, that during the preceding winter she several
times spoke to me on projects of marriage for her
daughters, begging me to try to induce M. de Praslin
to adopt her views ; but I declared that these pro-
jects of marriage in families were things too delicate
for me to meddle with in any way. There was seen
in this reply, which I believe a wise one, a desire to
establish myself for ever in the family by keeping off
good marriages, for it was understood that I should
leave when the three eldest daughters should be
established.
When did you leave the house of the Duke de
Praslin?—On Sunday evening, the 18th of July
last, at the moment that all the family were prepar-
ing to proceed to the Château de Praslin?
After leaving the house, did you not continue to
see the Duke de Praslin ?—I only saw him three
times. The first time was with his daughter Berthe
and his son Raynald. These two children had been
brought to the boarding-school in which I reside by
the femme de charge of the Marshal, I had been
with them to the dentists, where they underwent
operations. The Duke came to rejoin us, and I went
went with them in a carriage to the Corbeil Rail-
way. As we had some time unoccupied, we went to
the gardens of the Luxembourg. It was the Duke who
proposed it, saying that I should thus remain longer
with the children. It is impossible for me to fix
the date of this first visit. Eight days ago last
Tuesday the Duke came to see me a second time.
He did not go up stairs, saying that he was not well
dressed enough to present himself to -Madame Le-
maire, and that he calculated on making his first
visit to her with his daughters. He announced to me
a visit with his children for Tuesday last, the 17th
of this month. He then spoke to me of the direction
of the education of his daughters, which did not pro-
ceed according to his ideas. On last Tuesday, the
17th, he brought his three daughters and his little boy
between half-past eight and nine o'clock. Madame
Lemaire, with 'whom he conversed for the first time,
informed him of her intention to give me a superior
place in her establisnment ; but she said that on ac-
count of the rumours which had been current on my
account, it was indispensable that the Duchess should
write a letter to deny them. It was settled that the
next day I should present myself at about two in the
afternoon to the Duchess, to solicit that letter. The
Duke and his children left me about ten o'clock.
Where did you pass the night of the 17th of
August ?—ln my chamber, in the house of Madame
Lemaire.
Did any one sleep with you in that chamber ?
No, Sir ; but I was surrounded by neighbours, who
could hear the least noise and the least movement
that I made.
At what hour did you go to bed ?—At half-past
eleven.
During this evening did you converse with M. de
Praslin alone, out of sight of the children and of
Madame Lemaire ?—No.
Did you accompany the Duke and his children ?
I only accompanied them to the door.
How did you learn the horrible event that has
taken place?—From M. Remy, professor of lite-
rature of the young ladies, who sent bis servant to
the hotel at eight o'clock, and came himself to an-
nounce it to me, with his wife, and take me to his
house, where I passed the day, until I was removed
by a police agent,
Why did you quit Madame Lemaire at such a mo-
ment without saying where you were going ?—I gave
the address of M. Remy to Madame Lemaire. Ido
not know why the police agents remained at her door
without coming for me where they were sure to
find me.
You must have learned that grave indications ac-
cuse the Duke de Praslin of having killed his wife ?
—Oh! no, no, no, no, gentlemen ! tell me that that
is not the case ! It is impossible ! He, he who could
not bear to see one of his children suffer ! No, do
not tell me that it is he ! You say that grave charges
arise ; but say rather that there exists a suspicion
which will not be justified! No, no ! (As she spoke
she fell on her knees, clasped her hands, and bent her
head to the ground.) "Oh 1" she resumed, "oh !
tell me, gentlemen, I beg of you. But no ! If you
told me, I would not believe it—no, never I" She
then paused, and pressed her forehead with her bands.
"It is impossible !" she continued. "My conscience
tells me that he did not do it! But if he did it, oh
God! why then, it is alone who am guilty ! who
loved the children so much, who adored them !—I
have been cowardly I I dreaded misfortune, misery,
and knew not how to resign myself to my lot, for
I am a poor abandoned creature, without resources,
without any other supporter than an old grandfather,
who is severe, and who threatened to deprive me of
the little he did for me. I was frightened at what
might happen to me. Oh ! I was wrong. I ought
to have said that I would adapt myself to my
sit-
tion, that I could be happy in my little
tchlia.rmber,
and that they ought to forget me and lhoviel
their
the
ano-
ther ; but I did nothing like that.
house, I was in such despair that I IwVishee.d to die. I
had a phial of laudanum ; I took ther poison, but I
was unfortunately called to life, for life 1.8 very sac to
me. I was so happy during six years in that house
in the midst of the children, who loved me, and
whom I loved more than life, that life became insup-
portable to me without them. I. have said it, it is I
who am guilty ! Write it, Sir 1 Yes, writ, it I
He must have demanded that unfortunate letter which
was to vouch for my character, she must have refused
it, and then ! Oh, yes !It is I—it is I alone who
am guilty! Write it ! write it ri
Such an exaltation does not appear possible to
belong to the feelings which may have existed between
you and the children. \Vas it to these children, and
to them alone, that the letters of ou Lave
6polien of were addressed ?—Yes, Sir, there may be
exaltation in all feelings. Cannot you conceive this ?
And then I would not answer till, after having seen

M. de Praslin so kind and good towards me, there
should not mingle with the affection I felt for the
children a tenderness, a lively tenderness, for their
father; but never, never have I carried into that
house trouble and adultery. I could not have done
It, out of respect for the children. I should have felt
as if I was sullying the brows of my own daughters
if I had kissed them after having become guilty. Is
it not to be believed that an honest love may be en-
tertained ? I feel that lam wrong in making use of
the word " daughters" which I have done only since
I write to them. I have said "my children" some-
times when speaking to all the little band.
Was this sentiment of tenderness participated in
by M. de Praslin ?—No ; M. de Praslin had no sen-
timent of tenderness, nor exaltation of tenderness, for
me, but his children were unhappy, they suffered
in their health, from the harsh treatment of their
mother.

But if it can be believed that M. de Praslin was the
author of the crime, it can never be thought that he
committed it to defend his children
thatagainst the harsh
thatwaN which
shich
not
treatment of their mother ?—No, Sir,
the motive. That which excited him,
carried him beyond himself, was a fear
of a suit for a separation, with which Madame
de l'raslin incessantly threatened him. In that
he saw a great misfortune for his children, the ruin of
their future prospects, and he was disposed to do any-
thing to avoid it. He was informed of the suit by
M. Rient, the notary, who communicated it to me.
The Abbe Gallard also mentioned it to me, and M.
de Praslin recreated me to submit to everything from
Madame de Praelinc and I promised him to do so, at
whatever sacrifice it miglit cost me. When the dis-
grace came thus I had not the courage to do it, and I
asked for this unfortunate letter, which has done all
the evil, because Madame Lemaire did not think that
of the 19th of June, which you have aniong the papers
seized at my residence, sufficient.
Your departure was not the result of a just mani-
festation of jealousy. You were sustained by the
husband against the wife, and the intervention of the
Marshal became became necessary ?—This resent-
ment was not manifested until the last moment. M.
de Praslin has never expressed to me anything more
than friendship and esteem, and I protest, to speak
the word, that he has never been my lover.
It is, however, a month since you quitted the house.
In the interval are the letters which you acknowledge
yourself you did wrong in writing. In the interval,
we find several visits—three, at least, paid to you by
M. de Praslin. Even for yesterday, you had been
requested to present yourself at the house to ask for
a letter from the Duchess, and yesterday morning, she
was assassinated ?—I can only repeat what I have
said. There was nothing criminal in the past be-
tween me and M. de Praslin, and no criminal project
intended for the future. If Madame de Praslin had
died a natural death, and M. de Praslin had offered
me his hand, I should never, for the sake of the children,
have consented to an alliance beneath the Duke, the
consequences of which would have fallen on them ;
and never should I have entertained the idea of a
liaison of another nature. If M. de Praslin had loved
me, I might have sacrificed my reputation to him,
and my life ; but I should never have wished it to
cost his wife the loss of a hair of her head—no—
never—never.
Are the four beginnings of letters which we now
show you your writing ?—Yes.
One of these letters has in it a phrase which is not
finished; it begins thus,—"You do not speak to me of
your father ; I hope he is well, and continues to have
courage. It seems to me that I should be less un-
happy if I was sure of suffering—;"—what did you
intend to say ?—lt is probable that I wished to ter-
minate the phrase by the word alone, or by the words
for you all. I stopped, I cannot say why. I thought
it better perhaps not to speak to these young ladies of
their father.
You were right, but precisely because the lett( r
contained the expression of a mutual sentiment, of
which the daughters ought not to be the confidents ?
—This sentiment was no other that an affection ex-
pressed perhaps more warmly that it was felt, but
which had nothing improper in it. It was the resu.t
of six years passed together in the same house.
SECOND INTERROGATORY OF AIDLLE. DE LUZY.
How long have you been engaged in the educati( n
of M. de Praslin's children ?—Six years and three
months.
Who had caused you to enter that family ?—I ob-
tained the situation through Mde. de Flahaut, to
whom I had been recommended by Lady Hislop,
whose daughter I had educated.
When you entered the Duke de Praslin's how were
you received in the family ?—Exceedingly well ; the
children soon became attached to rne, and the Duchess
was pleased with me.
At that period did not the most complete good un-
derstanding exist between M. and Mde. de Praslin ?
No ; the governess whom I replaced had warned me
that there were often differences between M. and
Mde. de Praslin, and had recommended me the
greatest circumspection with respect to them.
Did you observe that circumspection ?—For a
length of time that was not necessary, for I lived
apart in the house with the children ; I saw nothing.
At what period did that state of things cease ?
When the girls began to grow up, the father came
more frequently near them, and of necessity near use,
since I never left them. Mde. de Praslin held her-
self apart, because she went a good deal into society
at Paris, and lived at her father's ; in the country she
remained a good deal in her own apartment, and often
even took her meals there. I supposed that to arise
from circumstances between her and M. de Praslin
which I was unacquainted with.
Did you, however, as would seem to be your duty,
endeavour to bring the children as much as possible,
both in mind and affection, in contact with the mo-
-1 ther ?—I attempted several times to come to some
understanding with Mde. de Praslin on the subject,
but she never seemed inclined to inform me ot her
intentions relative to her children. She stated to me
that she did not approve of the direction given by
M. de Praslin for their education, but that she had
promised to leave the superintendence of their
studies entirely to him. She never asked me any
question as to the character or ability of any of her
daughters; she never made any suggestion concern-
ing them, except in what related to their dress ; she ,
never endeavoured to induce her children to come
near her, and she spoke to them very rarely. When
we were alone the conversation generally turned be-
tween her and me on questions of literature, in which
the children, from their age, and the degree ot ad-
vancement which they had reached in their studies,
could not take part. These conversations fatigued
the children, and caused them to prefer being alone
with me, as I placed myself more on their level.
They feared their mother exceedingly, but they were
always submissive and respectful to her.
Did you not frequently perceive that this situation
of the Duchess de Praslin, with respect to her children,
this almost complete isolation in which she was held
from all that regarded them, was exceedingly painful
to her, and caused differences between her and 111.
de Praslin ?—I believe, on the contrary, on my soul
and conscience, that Madame de Praslin, being much
more occupied at that period with her sentiments for
her husband, than with those which were inspired by
young children whom she rarely saw, removed them
from her presence when their father was with her,
in order to remain with him ; and intentionally
held herself apart from her children when M.
de Praslin was not there, in order to turn it iuto
an arm against him in the reproaches which she ad-
dressed to him on the manner in which he governed
their education at home. Never would Madame de
Praslin, at first, when in the country, take a walk in
Common, but afterwards she changed. When M. de
Praslin used to play with his children, and replied
only briefly to the questions which she constantly ad-
dressed to him to attract his attention, she used gene-
rally. to quit the room, testifying in a visible manner
her jealous irritation at the attention which the chil-
dren paid to M. de Praslin rather than to her ; the
children at an early period perceived this sentiment,
and conceived a sort of irritation against their
f
mother ; they affected, with the innocent malice
stillo
children, to brave this sentiment, in testify
real mischief which this kind of struggp
the power to pre-
ventgreater tenderness to their father. Ileerrceiinvgeddthine
the children, but bad not always_
eirntsersessults.pupils prevented me
impartial in these matters,
which Even efeni
felt
at
for
rl amteyr period the excessive
from being completely
l
tend
which back to Madame de
I could not attempt to
dbri.ng presented themse ves_afresh day after day, and
at east very
imprudently, kept apart from er.
Praslin those whom she esignhedly, or 1
In all that you have said you have been endeavour-
ing very evidently to throw all the fault on Madame de
Praslin ; however, the frightful catastrophe which has
terminated her life ought certainly to render you
you use, it may be doubted that you did
more circumspect in your manner of judging. From
your duty to do to terminate so tabus
that
tgrt
~,,gea 3
de-
plorable a situation, and to bring back to the mother
that affection from her children to which she had
such strong claims—from her children, be it remem-
bered, over whom you exercised an almost absolute
power, as is testified by documents under their hand
and yours. It is therefore permitted to believe that
you have ben far, very far, from conducting your-
self in these unhappy circumstances as you ought to
have done.—l would not for the whole world that I
could be accused of being wanting in respect to the
memory of Mile. de Praslin, but you demand the
truth from me, and I am bound to tell it in its
totality. Ido not accuse her heart, Ido not accuse
her sentiments, but I do her character, at moments
irritable and fractious, which rendered her incapable
of conducting so many children of ages, minds, and
characters completely opposite. 1,; either had st € in
her tenderness tor them that kisser all,r, that facility
which gains the heart of youth ; irritable in petty
circum,tanees where indulgence would have been
for each useless rigour, too great an extent
necessary, she, on the contrary, manifested, as if to
make up

Did not a moment arrive whenAnyfgdo_uebipeercpeived that
and
dlin a
syaobuj
ehcatdobt. e c
do
ims
see
nbteitossaLe na M.stn Mde. e
you then do all in in your power to change so afflict-
ingdid
a state of things, either by sacrifices imposed on
your self-love, or by all the means that you ought to
employ with the children to induce them to feel for
their mother sentiments, which they ought never to
have ceased to feel towards her, and which it was
your bounden duty to nourish ?—As to what related
to me personally in the coolness between M. and
Mde. de Praslin, I at first considered it of little im-
portance, in consequence of the facility with which
I saw her conceiving the same impressions with res-
pectjstcawbhueiparesoecpnctr
:suedl
secondary
cr,ont
oel
dobanlAcli
del I
us
titaxotott
rypihuayoarge
noes
hlpssf.
vg;
triactrniiepl
acoeatpvhneat
whenei rrtaelcr
clearly
theseei ueftdi
oehrnauss
nsehtn dtoedohN lcrf'
eicNi
myself
eyeschei
on the
consider
srloeefort
tvrafwehsnat:uteihntites
shyns-e.
apstuomteesmaedrisrintseni
hompoecennsexysaortpsiishmnloeieaadnlenilf‘,
respect to her and M. de Praslin ; being hurt at find-
ing myself repulsed in a confidence which I consi-
dered honourable for me, I refrained from recurring
to the subject. As to the children, could not a mother
have drawn them back to herself had she wished it ?
At the commencement, you said that M. de Praslin
at last lived principally with you and his children ?
M. de Praslin did not live principally with me and
his children; only, at the country long walks, and in
town, the habits of Madame de Praslin, who did not
quit the drawing-room of her father except to enter
into society, caused that in the play hours in summer,
and during the long evenings of winter, M. de Praslin
walked out with us, or passed his evening in the
school-room circle. The children were admitted, but
for a few instants, to their grandfather, and Madame
de Praslin never asked us to pass our evenings in
her drawing-room.
In your system of reply you throw all the blame
on Mde. de Praslin, and that language is most painful
fur us to hear, after having heard a moment ago the
two letters read which that excellent person addressed
to you—one on New Year's Day, in which she offered
you so generously an oblivion of all the differences
which existed between you and her, she might have
said pardon, but did not do so ; the other, written
when you were leaving her roof, in which she assures
you of her protection—all this, too, be it borne in
mind, when she assured you a pension of 1,5001. a year?
You interrogated me on the course followed relative
to the children, and I endeavoured to make it as clear
as possible. As to what is personal to me, the con-
duct of Madame de Praslin was to me as to all who
were acquainted with her, unequal, arid often incom-
prehensible. I was often cruelly wounded in my self-
love and my other feelings ; at other times I was
treated with interest and affection. Often after
having thus wounded me she would make me some
rich present; and even just before I left her house,
when she had refused to meet me at meals, when in
the eyes of the whole household I was disgracefully
sent away rather than honourably dismissed, Madame
de Praslin having met me by chance, all at once
evinced great kindness, and even sent me books to
amuse me.
That is a proof of the goodness of Madame de
Praslin, a goodness manifested so frequently, and
which was so remarkable, when displayed after such
great causes of displeasure.—But was not that kind-
ness a proof that the displeasure to which you allude
was caused rather by an irritability of character which
she could not control than by facts which she consi-
dered grave ?
There was, unfortunately, but too much cause for
that irritability of character, and you yourself, after
you left Mde. de Praslin's, afforded a strong proof
of the fact. Did you not by your correspondence
with M. de Praslin and his daughters, keep up as
much as in you lay the sentiments of irritation, spite,
and anger which existed between them and Mde. de
Praslin on account of your leaving ? Even in calling
on them to support the separation with firmness was
there not in your language a terrible encouragement
to preserve the sentiments which only too strongly
reigned in their hearts, and the explosion of which in
M. de Praslin's led to so frightful a catastrophe ?
Oh ! I swear to you that in my letters there was
neither art nor hidden motive. I was in the utmost
grief, and expressed my despair with too much
warmth. I now reproach myself for it ; but cer-
tainly it was not to separate them from their mother
that I wrote as I did. I feel now that I ought to
have gone to a distance, and allowed the sentiments
of these children to calm down in the course of time,
but I never sought to augment the evil. What is
altogether unfortunate is that a determination should
have been come to all at once to break the bonds of
affection which had become stronger and stronger
during six years. Had Madame de Praslin come to
an explanation with me—had she authorised our cor-
respondence, and taken it under her direction, had
she allowed us to see each other from time to time,
their sentiments and mine would not have been ex-
cited.
In every answer you give youagainst insinuate something
Aide. de Praslin ?—( Areeping)—l
wish most sincerely I had not to say what I do. She
is dead, and I only wish I could bring her back to
life, not by merely giving mine for hers, but in addi-
tion by suffering the most horrible tortures. Who
beheld as I did for six years every fold okfnhvissmataiilnsitl
ieivoetrhyatcehxatnrgaeorodfinhaeryr
and
disentee ? \\'h,
incomprehensible
which caused Aide. de Pra,ltn to pass from anger to
mirth, from disdain to mildness, from irony to kind-
ness ? I feel that, except before you, I would not have
uttered a word, except of respect, veneration, and re-
gret. Oh ! I do not defend myself. I only endeavour
to enlighten what is dark.
Since you left M. de Praslin's how often have yon
seen him and his children ?—Three times—once with
his
times ehc oe nd
wasdaughter
banedsehni
ts youngest boy ;
to
the d the
.secTo nd
The
third time was on Tuesday last with three of his
daughters and his youngest boy.
youo
of
laonn eh
uwerer..
my! udelornrgastioin-
daughters to carry a basket
was charged by one of he
of fruit to M. Remy ; he proposed to me to get into a
getl‘hehrel?l—hTehrceaem-qe
carriage, because he wanted to converse with me.
u to
t. riss
What was the subject of your conversation ?—The
direction which ought to be given to Mdlle. Maria, his
third daughter, whose education Mde. de Praslin had
undertaken.
Did you not claim that direction ?—I could not ap-
prove, as a teacher, of a course of studies which M.
Remy himself had told me was not practicable with
so young a person, and I recommended M. de Praslin
to allow the child to enjoy the country for a while,
and then follow, at the convent where her sisters were
placed, a more regilar course of studies.
In the last visit made to you by M. de Praslin, in
company with three of his daughters and his youngest
son, what took place ?—When they all entered the
children and myself were at first much affected. I
then told M. de Praslin that Mde. Lemaire,: the
mistress of the school where I was residing, was in-
clined to give me employment, but that having heard
some
wuennfated unfavourable reports
traeinpofrrtosmrelmatidvee. d
toe In
Praslin y
she
to serve as a testimony in my favour. M. de Praslin
went to see Mde. Lemaire, and, when he returned,
I told him "not to think too much of this affair, as
Mde. Lemaire probably gave it more importance in
order to induce me to accept conditions which I did
not seem inclined to accept.' M. de Praslin left me
some minutes after, and our last words were, " Fare-
well until to-morrow," as we were all to meet at
twelve o'clock, and it had been agreed that I should
make a step towards a reconciliation with Mde. de
Praslin.
give you any hope of obtaining
theDliedttiNerl. firloemPrAnFlitin
.clame de Praslin ?—Be had told
Madame Lemaire that he thought it would be difficult
to obtain it, as Madame de Praslin was anxious for me
to go to some foreign country.
When M. de Praslin left you did he appear extra-
ordinarily excited ?—No, he merely said, " I am
sorry for you. I play an awkward part in this affair.
Eh a•yeartl e:ilin. The hour wa, st little befdre 10,
and h.- in a h,.(kney -coach with his children.
The next day when you heard of the murder, you
went to M. Remy's. Did you take with you the
letters found there, or had you left them there befors?
--I took them with me. •