d that a sharp struggle
was taking place within that man's heart, and the sadness was great with
which he watched that crowd in order to discover some familiar face, but
he beheld only those of the curious. What Bernardet considered of the
greatest importance was not to lose sight of this person of whose
existence he was ignorant an hour before; and who, to him, was the
perpetrator of the deed or an accomplice. He followed Dantin at a
distance, who, from the cemetery at Montmartre went on foot directly to
the Rue de Richelieu, and stopped at the number he had given, 114.

Bernardet allowed some minutes to pass after the man on whose track he
was had entered. Then he asked the concierge if M. Jacques Dantin was
at home. He questioned him closely and became convinced that M.
Rovere's friend had really lived there two years and had no profession.

"Then," said the police agent, "it is not this Dantin for whom I am
looking. He is a banker." He excused himself, went out, hailed a fiacre,
and gave the order: "To the Prefecture."

His report to the Chief, M. Morel, was soon made. He listened to him
with attention, for he had absolute confidence in the police officer.
"Never any _gaff_ with Bernardet," M. Morel was wont to say. He, like
Bernardet, soon felt convinced that this man was probably the murderer
of the ex-Consul.

"As to the motive which led to the crime, we shall know it later."

He wished, above everything else, to have strict inquiries made into
Dantin's past life, in regard to his present existence; and the
inquiries would be compared with his answers to the questions which M.
Ginory would ask him when he had been cited as a witness.

"Go at once to M. Ginory's room, Bernardet," said the Chief. "During
this time I would learn a little about what kind of a man this is."

Bernardet had only to cross some corridors and mount a few steps to
reach the gallery upon which M. Ginory's room opened. While waiting to
be admitted he passed up and down; seated on benches were a number of
malefactors, some of whom knew him well, who were waiting examination.
He was accustomed to see this sight daily, and without being moved, but
this time he was overcome by a sort of agony, a spasm which contracted
even his fingers and left his nerves in as quivering a state as does
insomnia. Truly, in the present case he was much more concerned than in
an ordinary manhunt. The officer experienced the fear which an inventor
feels before