was sick of the
whole business. He never crossed his own threshold without crushing his
hat over his eyes to avoid the investigating ray and without wishing old
Sariette, the _fons et origo_ of all the evil, at the devil. The
intimates of the household, such as Abbe Patouille and Uncle Gaetan,
made themselves scarce; visitors gave up calling, tradespeople hesitated
about leaving their goods, the carts belonging to the big shops scarcely
dared stop. But it was among the domestics that the spying roused the
most disorder.

The footman, afraid, under the eye of the police, to go and join the
cobbler's wife over her solitary labours in the afternoon, found the
house unbearable and gave notice. Odile, Madame d'Esparvieu's
lady's-maid, not daring, as was her custom after her mistress had
retired, to introduce Octave, the handsomest of the neighbouring
bookseller's clerks, to her little room upstairs, grew melancholy,
irritable and nervous, pulled her mistress's hair while dressing it,
spoke insolently, and made advances to Monsieur Maurice. The cook,
Madame Malgoire, a serious matron of some fifty years, having no more
visits from Auguste, the wine-merchant's man in the Rue Servandoni, and
being incapable of suffering a privation so contrary to her temperament,
went mad, sent up a raw rabbit to table, and announced that the Pope had
asked her hand in marriage. At last, after a fortnight of superhuman
assiduity, contrary to all known laws of organic life, and to the
essential conditions of animal economy, Mignon, the detective, having
observed nothing abnormal, ceased his surveillance and withdrew without
a word, refusing to accept a gratuity. In the library the dance of the
books became livelier than ever.

"That is all right," said Monsieur des Aubels. "Since nothing comes in
nor goes out, the evil-doer must be in the house."

The magistrate thought it possible to discover the criminal without
police-warrant or enquiry. On a date agreed upon at midnight, he had the
floor of the library, the treads of the stairs, the vestibule, the
garden path leading to Monsieur Maurice's summer-house, and the entrance
hall of the latter, all covered with a coating of talc.

The following morning Monsieur des Aubels, assisted by a photographer
from the Prefecture, and accompanied by Monsieur Rene d'Esparvieu and
Monsieur Sariette, came to take the imprints. They found nothing in the
garden, the wind had blown away the coating of talc; n