magistrate's office, one would never have
believed that he was many years on the shady side of fifty. Even he
himself had forgotten it. He did not remember how he had passed the
night; he had never before felt so fresh, so agile, in such spirits; he
seemed to have springs of steel in his limbs.

He burst like a cannon-shot into the magistrate's office, knocking up
against the methodical clerk in the rudest of ways, without even asking
his pardon.

"Caught!" he cried, while yet on the threshold, "caught, nipped,
squeezed, strung, trapped, locked! We have got the man."

Old Tabaret, more Tirauclair than ever, gesticulated with such comical
vehemence and such remarkable contortions that even the tall clerk
smiled, for which, however, he took himself severely to task on going to
bed that night.

But M. Daburon, still under the influence of Noel's deposition, was
shocked at this apparently unseasonable joy; although he felt the safer
for it. He looked severely at old Tabaret, saying,--"Hush, sir; be
decent, compose yourself."

At any other time, the old fellow would have felt ashamed at having
deserved such a reprimand. Now, it made no impression on him.

"I can't be quiet," he replied. "Never has anything like this been known
before. All that I mentioned has been found. Broken foil, lavender kid
gloves slightly frayed, cigar-holder; nothing is wanting. You shall have
them, sir, and many other things besides. I have a little system of my
own, which appears by no means a bad one. Just see the triumph of my
method of induction, which Gevrol ridiculed so much. I'd give a hundred
francs if he were only here now. But no; my Gevrol wants to nab the
man with the earrings; he is just capable of doing that. He is a fine
fellow, this Gevrol, a famous fellow! How much do you give him a year
for his skill?"

"Come, my dear M. Tabaret," said the magistrate, as soon as he could get
in a word, "be serious, if you can, and let us proceed in order."

"Pooh!" replied the old fellow, "what good will that do? It is a clear
case now. When they bring the fellow before you, merely show him the
particles of kid taken from behind the nails of the victim, side by side
with his torn gloves, and you will overwhelm him. I wager that he will
confess all, hic et nunc,--yes, I wager my head against his; although
that's pretty risky; for he may get off yet! Those milk-sops on the jury
are just capable of according him extenuating circumstances. Ah!