eyes like hooks, I felt so pierced through, searched, turned over to
the very depth of my being, that, in spite of my innocence, I wanted to
confess. Confess what? I don't know. But that is the effect which the
law had. This devil of a man spent five minutes looking at me without
speaking, all the while turning over a book filled with writing not
unknown to me, and suddenly he said, in a mocking and severe tone:

"Well, M. Passajon, how long is it since the affair of the drayman?"

The memory of a certain little misdeed, in which I had taken part in my
days of distress, was already so distant that I did not understand at
once; but some words of the judge showed me how completely he knew the
history of our bank. This terrible man knew everything, down to the
least details, the most secret things. Who could have informed him so
thoroughly?

It was all very short, very dry, and, when I wished to enlighten justice
with some wise observations, a certain insolent fashion of saying,
"Don't make phrases," so much the more wounding at my age and with my
reputation of a good talker; also we were not alone in his office. A
clerk seated near me was writing down my deposition, and behind I heard
the noise of great leaves turning. The judge asked me all sorts of
questions about the Nabob--the time when he had made his payments, the
place where we kept our books; and all at once, addressing himself to
the person whom I could not see: "Show us the cash-book, _M. l'Expert_."

A little man in a white tie brought the great register to the table. It
was M. Joyeuse, the former cashier of Hemerlingue & Sons. But I had not
time to offer him my respects.

"Who has done that?" asked the judge, opening the book where a page was
torn out. "Don't lie, now."

I did not lie; I knew nothing of it, never having had to do with the
books. However, I thought it my duty to mention M. de Gery, the Nabob's
secretary, who often came at night into the office and shut himself up
for hours casting balances. Then little Father Joyeuse turned red with
anger.

"That is an absurdity, M. le Juge d'Instruction. M. de Gery is the
young man of whom I have spoken to you. He came to the Territorial as a
superintendent, and thought too much of this poor M. Jansoulet to
remove the receipts for his payments; that is the proof of his blind but
thorough honesty. Besides, M. de Gery, who has been detained in Tunis,
is on his way back, and will furnish before long all