Had not he himself, one night, in a similar condition, traversed all Paris?
What reply could he have made, had some one asked him next morning where he had been, except that he had not paid attention, and did not know?
But he had forgotten this; and his previous hesitations, too, had all vanished.
As the inquiry advanced, the fever of investigation took possession of him.

He enjoyed the emotions of the struggle, his passion for his calling became stronger than ever.
He was again an investigating magistrate, like the fencing master, who, once practising with his dearest friend, became excited by the clash of the weapons, and, forgetting himself, killed him.
"So," resumed M.Daburon, "you met absolutely no one who can affirm that he saw you?
You did not speak to a living soul?
You entered no place, not even a cafe or a theatre, or a tobacconist's to light one of your favourite trabucos ?" "No, sir." "Well, it is a great misfortune for you, yes, a very great misfortune; for I must inform you, that it was precisely during this Tuesday evening, between eight o'clock and midnight, that Widow Lerouge was assassinated.

Justice can point out the exact hour.

Again, sir, in your own interest, I recommend you to reflect,--to make a strong appeal to your memory." This pointing out of the exact day and hour of the murder seemed to astound Albert.

He raised his hand to his forehead with a despairing gesture.