st disagreeable
that could be imagined. A very heavy snow storm had prevailed for
several days. It was now beginning to thaw, and on all the frequented
thoroughfares the slush was ankle-deep. It was still cold, however; a
damp chill filled the air, and penetrated to the very marrow of one's
bones. Besides, there was a dense fog, so dense that one could not see
one's hands before one's face.

"What a beastly job!" growled one of the agents.

"Yes," replied the inspector who commanded the squad; "if you had an
income of thirty thousand francs, I don't suppose you'd be here." The
laugh that greeted this common-place joke was not so much flattery as
homage to a recognized and established superiority.

The inspector was, in fact, one of the most esteemed members of the
force, a man who had proved his worth. His powers of penetration were
not, perhaps, very great; but he thoroughly understood his profession,
its resources, its labyrinths, and its artifices. Long practise had
given him imperturbable coolness, a great confidence in himself, and a
sort of coarse diplomacy that supplied the place of shrewdness. To his
failings and his virtues he added incontestable courage, and he
would lay his hand upon the collar of the most dangerous criminal as
tranquilly as a devotee dips his fingers in a basin of holy water.

He was a man about forty-six years of age, strongly built, with rugged
features, a heavy mustache, and rather small, gray eyes, hidden by bushy
eyebrows. His name was Gevrol, but he was universally known as "the
General." This sobriquet was pleasing to his vanity, which was not
slight, as his subordinates well knew; and, doubtless, he felt that he
ought to receive from them the same consideration as was due to a person
of that exalted rank.

"If you begin to complain already," he added, gruffly, "what will you do
by and by?"

In fact, it was too soon to complain. The little party were then passing
along the Rue de Choisy. The people on the footways were orderly; and
the lights of the wine-shops illuminated the street. All these places
were open. There is no fog or thaw that is potent enough to dismay
lovers of pleasure. And a boisterous crowd of maskers filled each
tavern, and public ballroom. Through the open windows came alternately
the sounds of loud voices and bursts of noisy music. Occasionally, a
drunken man staggered along the pavement, or a masked figure crept by in
the shadow cast by the houses.

Befo