mocks and peaked hats. They believe in an aristocracy and its
privileges, and threaten to have us removed--you know that very well,
Bernardet. Then, as time passes, they become, in a measure, calm and
meek as little lambs; then they whimper and confess. Dantin will do as
all the others have done. For the moment he howls about his innocence,
and will threaten us, you will see, with a summons from the Chamber.
That is of no importance."

The Chief then gave the officer some instructions. He need not trouble
himself any more, just now, about the Dantin affair, but attend to
another matter of less importance--a trivial affair. After the murder
and his experiences at the Morgue this matter seemed a low one to
Bernardet. But each duty has its antithesis. The police officer put into
this petty affair of a theft the same zeal, the same sharp attention
with which he had investigated the crime of the Boulevard de Clichy. It
was his profession.

Bernardet started out on his quest. It was near the Halles (markets)
that he had to work this time. The suspected man was probably one of the
rascals who prowl about day and night, living on adventures, and without
any home; sleeping under the bridges, or in one of the hovels on the
outskirts of the Rue de Venise, where vice, distress and crime
flourished. Bernardet first questioned the owner of the stolen property,
obtained all the information which he could about the suspected man,
and, with his keen scent for a criminal aroused, he glanced at
everything--men, things, objects that would have escaped a less
practised eye. He was walking slowly along toward the Permanence,
looking keenly at the passers-by, the articles in the shops, the various
movements in the streets, to see if he could get a hint upon which to
work.

It was his habit to thus make use of his walks. In a promenade he had
more than once met a client, past or future. The boys fled before his
piercing eyes; before this fat, jolly little man with the mocking smile
which showed under his red mustache. This fright which he inspired made
him laugh inwardly. He knew that he was respected, that he was feared.
Among all these passers-by who jostled him, without knowing that he was
watching them, he was a power, an unknown but sovereign power. He walked
along with short, quick steps and watchful eyes, very much preoccupied
with this affair, thinking of the worthless person for whom he was
seeking, but he stopped occasionally to l