lar."

He leaned forward until his nose touched the cold glass, and peered
fixedly at the picture. This painting, as large as one's hand, was the
portrait of a man, and Bernardet fully believed at the first look he
recognized the person whom the painter had reproduced.

As his shadow fell across the window Bernardet could not distinctly see
the painting, for it was not directly in the front line of articles
displayed, and he stepped to one side to see if he could get a better
view. Assuredly, there could be no doubt, the oval painting was
certainly the portrait of Jacques Dantin, now accused of a crime. There
was the same high forehead, the pointed beard, of the same color; the
black redingote, tightly buttoned up and edged at the neck with the
narrow line of a white linen collar, giving, in resembling a doublet, to
this painting, the air of a trooper, of a swordsman, of a Guisard (a
partisan of the Duke of Guise), of the time of Clouet.

Something of a connoisseur in painting, without doubt, in his quality of
amateur photographer, much accustomed to criticise a portrait if it was
not a perfect likeness, Bernardet found in this picture a startling
resemblance to Jacques Dantin; it was the very man himself! He appeared
there, his thin face standing out from its greenish-black sombre
background; the poise of the head displayed the same vigor as in the
original; the clear-cut features looked energetic, and the skin had the
same pallor which was characteristic of Dantin's complexion. This head,
admirably painted, displayed an astonishing lifelike intensity. It had
been done by a master hand, no doubt of that. And although in this
portrait Jacques Dantin looked somewhat younger--for instance, the hair
and pointed beard showed no silvery streaks in them--the resemblance was
so marvelous that Bernardet immediately exclaimed: "It is he!"

And most certainly it was Jacques Dantin himself. The more the officer
examined it, the more convinced he became that this was a portrait of
the man whom he had accompanied to the cemetery and to prison. But how
could this picture have come into this bric-a-brac shop, and of whom
could the dealer have obtained it? A reply to this would probably not be
very difficult to obtain, and the police officer pushed back the door
and found himself in the presence of a very large woman, with a pale,
puffy face, which was surrounded by a lace cap. Her huge body was
enveloped in a knitted woollen shawl.