But the walks of
      Marie may, in general, be supposed discursive. In this particular
      instance, it will be understood as most probable, that she
      proceeded upon a route of more than average diversity from her
      accustomed ones. The parallel which we imagine to have existed in
      the mind of Le Commerciel would only be sustained in the event of
      the two individuals traversing the whole city. In this case,
      granting the personal acquaintances to be equal, the chances
      would be also equal that an equal number of personal rencounters
      would be made. For my own part, I should hold it not only as
      possible, but as very far more than probable, that Marie might
      have proceeded, at any given period, by any one of the many
      routes between her own residence and that of her aunt, without
      meeting a single individual whom she knew, or by whom she was
      known. In viewing this question in its full and proper light, we
      must hold steadily in mind the great disproportion between the
      personal acquaintances of even the most noted individual in
      Paris, and the entire population of Paris itself. “But whatever force there may still appear to be in the
      suggestion of Le Commerciel, will be much diminished when we take
      into consideration the hour at which the girl went abroad. ‘It
      was when the streets were full of people,’ says Le Commerciel,
      ‘that she went out.’ But not so. It was at nine o’clock in the
      morning. Now at nine o’clock of every morning in the week, _with
      the exception of Sunday_, the streets of the city are, it is
      true, thronged with people. At nine on Sunday, the populace are
      chiefly within doors _preparing for church_. No observing person
      can have failed to notice the peculiarly deserted air of the
      town, from about eight until ten on the morning of every Sabbath. Between ten and eleven the streets are thronged, but not at so
      early a period as that designated. “There is another point at which there seems a deficiency of
      observation on the part of Le Commerciel. ‘A piece,’ it says, ‘of
      one of the unfortunate girl’s petticoats, two feet long, and one
      foot wide, was torn out and tied under her chin, and around the
      back of her head, probably to prevent screams. This was done, by
      fellows who had no pocket-handkerchiefs.’ Whether this idea is,
      or is not well founded, we will endeavor to see hereafter; but by
      ‘fellows who have no pocket-handkerchiefs’ the editor intends the
      lowest class of ruffians. These, however, are the very
      description of people who will always be found to have
      handkerchiefs even when destitute of shirts. You must have had
      occasion to observe how absolutely indispensable, of late years,
      to the thorough blackguard, has become the pocket-handkerchief.”

      “And what are we to think,” I asked, “of the article in Le
      Soleil?”

      “That it is a vast pity its inditer was not born a parrot—in
      which case he would have been the most illustrious parrot of his
      race. He has merely repeated the individual items of the already
      published opinion; collecting them, with a laudable industry,
      from this paper and from that. ‘The things had all evidently been
      there,’ he says, ‘at least, three or four weeks, and there can be
      _no doubt_ that the spot of this appalling outrage has been
      discovered.’ The facts here re-stated by Le Soleil, are very far
      indeed from removing my own doubts upon this subject, and we will
      examine them more particularly hereafter in connexion with
      another division of the theme. “At present we must occupy ourselves with other investigations. You cannot fail to have remarked the extreme laxity of the
      examination of the corpse. To be sure, the question of identity
      was readily determined, or should have been; but there were other
      points to be ascertained. Had the body been in any respect
      despoiled? Had the deceased any articles of jewelry about her
      person upon leaving home? if so, had she any when found? These
      are important questions utterly untouched by the evidence; and
      there are others of equal moment, which have met with no
      attention. We must endeavor to satisfy ourselves by personal
      inquiry. The case of St. Eustache must be re-examined. I have no
      suspicion of this person; but let us proceed methodically. We
      will ascertain beyond a doubt the validity of the affidavits in
      regard to his whereabouts on the Sunday. Affidavits of this
      character are readily made matter of mystification. Should there
      be nothing wrong here, however, we will dismiss St. Eustache from
      our investigations. His suicide, however corroborative of
      suspicion, were there found to be deceit in the affidavits, is,
      without such deceit, in no respect an unaccountable circumstance,
      or one which need cause us to deflect from the line of ordinary
      analysis. “In that which I now propose, we will discard the interior points
      of this tragedy, and concentrate our attention upon its
      outskirts. Not the least usual error, in investigations such as
      this, is the limiting of inquiry to the immediate, with total
      disregard of the collateral or circumstantial events. It is the
      mal-practice of the courts to confine evidence and discussion to
      the bounds of apparent relevancy. Yet experience has shown, and a
      true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger
      portion of truth, arises from the seemingly irrelevant. It is
      through the spirit of this principle, if not precisely through
      its letter, that modern science has resolved to calculate upon
      the unforeseen. But perhaps you do not comprehend me. The history
      of human knowledge has so uninterruptedly shown that to
      collateral, or incidental, or accidental events we are indebted
      for the most numerous and most valuable discoveries, that it has
      at length become necessary, in any prospective view of
      improvement, to make not only large, but the largest allowances
      for inventions that shall arise by chance, and quite out of the
      range of ordinary expectation. It is no longer philosophical to
      base, upon what has been, a vision of what is to be. Accident is
      admitted as a portion of the substructure. We make chance a
      matter of absolute calculation. We subject the unlooked for and
      unimagined to the mathematical _formulae_ of the schools.