ving the card to Colonel Papillon.

"Does this mean that I am a prisoner?" asked Sir Charles, his
gorge rising, as it did easily.

"It means, monsieur, that you are in the hands of justice until
your recent conduct has been fully explained," said the detective,
with the air of a despot.

"But I protest--"

"I wish to hear no further observations, monsieur. You may reserve
them till you can give them to the right person."

The General's temper was sorely ruffled. He did not like it at
all; yet what could he do? Prudence gained the day, and after a
struggle he decided to submit, lest worse might befall him.

There was, in truth, worse to be encountered. It was very irksome
to be in the power of this now domineering little man on his own
ground, and eager to show his power. It was with a very bad grace
that Sir Charles obeyed the curt orders he received, to leave the
cab, to enter at a side door of the Prefecture, to follow this
pompous conductor along the long vaulted passages of this rambling
building, up many flights of stone stairs, to halt obediently at
his command when at length they reached a closed door on an upper
story.

"It is here!" said M. Flocon, as he turned the handle
unceremoniously without knocking. "Enter."

A man was seated at a small desk in the centre of a big bare room,
who rose at once at the sight of M. Flocon, and bowed deferentially
without speaking.

"Baume," said the Chief, shortly, "I wish to leave this gentleman
with you. Make him at home,"--the words were spoken in manifest
irony,--"and when I call you, bring him at once to my cabinet.
You, monsieur, you will oblige me by staying here."

Sir Charles nodded carelessly, took the first chair that offered,
and sat down by the fire.

He was to all intents and purposes in custody, and he examined his
gaoler at first wrathfully, then curiously, struck with his rather
strange figure and appearance. Baume, as the Chief had called him,
was a short, thick-set man with a great shock head sunk in low
between a pair of enormous shoulders, betokening great physical
strength; he stood on very thin but greatly twisted bow legs, and
the quaintness of his figure was emphasized by the short black
blouse or smock-frock he wore over his other clothes like a French
artisan.

He was a man of few words, and those not the most polite in tone,
for when the General began with a banal remark about the weather,
M. Baume replied, shortly:

"I wish to h