he cried out. "Speak! who do you pretend to say opened the
safe? Answer me!"

"I cannot say."

"No one but you and I knew the secret word. No one but you and myself
had keys."

This was a formal accusation; at least, all the auditors present so
understood it.

Yet Prosper's strange calmness never left him for an instant. He quietly
released himself from M. Fauvel's grasp, and very slowly said:

"In other words, monsieur, I am the only person who could have taken
this money."

"Unhappy wretch!"

Prosper drew himself to his full height, and, looking M. Fauvel full in
the face, added:

"Or you!"

The banker made a threatening gesture; and there is no knowing what
would have happened if they had not been interrupted by loud and angry
voices at the entry-door.

A man insisted upon entering in spite of the protestations of the
errand-boys, and succeeded in forcing his way in. It was M. de Clameran.

The clerks stood looking on, bewildered and motionless. The silence was
profound, solemn.

It was easy to see that some terrible question, a question of life or
death, was being weighed by all these men.

The iron-founder did not appear to observe anything unusual. He
advanced, and without lifting his hat said, in the same impertinent
tone:

"It is after ten o'clock, gentlemen."

No one answered; and M. de Clameran was about to continue, when, turning
around, he for the first time saw the banker, and walking up to him
said:

"Well, monsieur, I congratulate myself upon finding you in at last. I
have been here once before this morning, and found the cash-room not
opened, the cashier not arrived, and you absent."

"You are mistaken, monsieur, I was in my office."

"At any rate, I was told you were out; that gentleman over there assured
me of the fact."

And the iron-founder pointed out Cavaillon.

"However, that is of little importance," he went on to say. "I return,
and this time not only the cash-room is closed, but I am refused
admittance to the banking-house, and find myself compelled to force my
way in. Be so good as to tell me whether I can have my money."

M. Fauvel's flushed face turned pale with anger as he listened to this
insolence; yet he controlled himself.

"I would be obliged to you monsieur, for a short delay."

"I thought you told me--"

"Yes, yesterday. But this morning, this very instant, I find I have been
robbed of three hundred and fifty thousand francs."

M. de Clameran bowed