did not hesitate; slowly, and with an air of indifference, he
opened the door.

He saw before him a man of about forty years, with a polite and shrewd
face, dressed in a short coat, and wearing a flat hat.

"Monsieur Florentin Cormier?"

"I am he."

And he asked him to come in.

"The judge desires to see you at his office."

Madame Cormier came from the kitchen in time to hear these few words,
and if Florentin had not motioned to her to be silent, she would have
betrayed herself. The words on her lips were:

"You came to arrest my son!" They would have escaped her, but she
crushed them back.

"And can you tell me for what affair the judge summons me?" Florentin
asked, steadying his voice.

"For the Caffie affair."

"And at what hour should I present myself before the judge?"

"Immediately."

"But my son has not breakfasted!" Madame Cormier exclaimed. "At least,
take something before going, my dear child."

"It is not worth while."

He made a sign to her that she should not insist. His throat was too
tight to swallow a piece of bread, and it was important that he should
not betray his emotion before this agent.

"I am ready," he said.

Going to his mother he embraced her, but lightly, without effusion, as
if he were only to be absent a short time.

"By-and-by."

She was distracted; but, understanding that she would compromise her son
if she yielded to her feelings, she controlled herself.

CHAPTER XX. A TIGHTENING CHAIN

As it was a part that he played, Florentin said to himself that he would
play it to the best of his ability in entering the skin of the person he
wished to be, and this part was that of a witness.

He had been Caffie's clerk; the justice would interrogate him about his
old employer, and nothing would be more natural. It was that only, and
nothing but that, which he could admit; consequently, he should interest
himself in the police investigations, and have the curiosity to learn
how they stood.

"Have you advanced far in the Caffie affair?" he asked the agent as they
walked along.

"I do not know," the agent answered, who thought it prudent to be
reserved. "I know nothing more than the newspapers tell."

On leaving his mother's house, Florentin observed on the other side
of the street a man who appeared to be stationed there; at the end of
several minutes, on turning a corner, he saw that this man followed them
at a certain distance. Then it was not a simple appeara