cknowledgment of ever having seen this
young man before. Generally prisoners would, unconsciously, permit a
gesture, a glance, a something, to escape them when they were brusquely
confronted, unexpectedly, with some accomplice. This time not a muscle
of Dantin's face moved, not an eyelash quivered.

M. Ginory motioned Jacques Dantin to a seat directly in front of him,
where the light would fall full upon his face. Pointing out Prades, he
asked:

"Do you recognize this man?"

Dantin, after a second or two, replied:

"No; I have never seen him."

"Never?"

"I believe not; he is unknown to me!"

"And you, Prades, have you ever seen Jacques Dantin?"

"Never," said Prades, in his turn. His voice seemed hoarse, compared
with the brief, clear response made by Dantin.

"He is, however, the original of the portrait which you sold to Mme.
Colard."

"The portrait?"

"Look sharply at Dantin. Look at him well," repeated M. Ginory. "You
must recognize that he is the original of the portrait in question."

"Yes;" Prades replied. His eyes were fixed upon the prisoner.

"Ah!" the Magistrate joyously exclaimed, asking: "And how, tell me, did
you so quickly recognize the original of the portrait which you saw only
an instant in my room?"

"I do not know," stammered Prades, not comprehending the gravity of a
question put in an insinuating, almost amiable tone.

"Oh, well!" continued M. Ginory, still in a conciliating tone, "I am
going to explain to you. It is certain that you recognize these
features, because you had a long time in which to contemplate them;
because you had it a long time in your hands when you were trying to
pull off the frame."

"The frame? What frame?" asked the young man stupefied, not taking his
eyes from the Magistrate's face, which seemed to him endowed with some
occult power. M. Ginory went on:

"The frame which you had trouble in removing, since the scratches show
in the wood. And what if, after taking the portrait to Mme. Colard's
shop, we should find the frame in question at another place, at some
other shop--that would not be very difficult," and M. Ginory smiled at
Bernardet. "What if we could add another new deposition to that of Mme.
Colard's? Yes; what if to that clear, decisive deposition we could add
another--what would you have to say?"

Silence! Prades turned his head around, his eyes wandered about, as if
searching to find an outlet or a support; gasping like a man who has
been