rfectly clear.

"That being the case, monsieur," said the judge, "I wish to examine him,
and desire that no one be admitted while he makes his deposition."

"Oh! you will not be intruded upon, monsieur; his room contains four
beds, but they are just now unoccupied."

When Antonin saw the judge enter, followed by a little weazened man in
black, with a portfolio under his arm, he at once knew what he had come
for.

"Ah," he said, "monsieur comes to see me about M. Bertomy's case?"

"Precisely."

M. Patrigent remained standing by the sick-bed while Sigault arranged
his papers on a little table.

In answer to the usual questions, the messenger swore that he was named
Antonin Poche, was forty years old, born at Cadaujac (Gironde), and was
unmarried.

"Now," said the judge, "are you well enough to clearly answer any
questions I may put?"

"Certainly, monsieur."

"Did you, on the 27th of February, go to the Bank of France for the
three hundred and fifty thousand francs that were stolen?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"At what hour did you return with the money?"

"It must have been five o'clock when I got back."

"Do you remember what M. Bertomy did when you handed him the notes? Now,
do not be in a hurry; think before you answer."

"Let me see: first he counted the notes, and made them into four
packages; then he put them in the safe; and then--it seems to me--and
then he locked the safe; and, yes, I am not mistaken, he went out!"

He uttered these last words so quickly, that, forgetting his knee, he
half started up, but, with a cry of pain, sank back in bed.

"Are you sure of what you say?" asked the judge.

M. Patrigent's solemn tone seemed to frighten Antonin.

"Sure?" he replied with marked hesitation, "I would bet my head on it,
yet I am not sure!"

It was impossible for him to be more decided in his answers. He had been
frightened. He already imagined himself in difficulty, and for a trifle
would have retracted everything.

But the effect was already produced; and when they retired M. Patrigent
said to Sigault:

"This is a very important piece of evidence."

VI

The Archangel Hotel, Mme. Gypsy's asylum, was the most elegant building
on the Quai St. Michel.

A person who pays her fortnight's board in advance is treated with
consideration at this hotel.

Mme. Alexandre, who had been a handsome woman, was now stout, laced till
she could scarcely breathe, always over-dressed, and fond of wearin