guard against deceptive appearances, and is capable
of admitting everything and explaining everything, it certainly is a
Parisian commissary of police.

While the judge, from his lofty place, applies the code to the facts
submitted to him, the commissary of police observes and watches all
the odious circumstances that the law cannot reach. He is perforce the
confidant of disgraceful details, domestic crimes, and tolerated vices.

If, when he entered upon his office, he had any illusions, before the
end of a year they were all dissipated.

If he does not absolutely despise the human race, it is because often,
side by side with abominations indulged in with impunity, he discovers
sublime generosities which remain unrewarded.

He sees impudent scoundrels filching public respect; and he consoles
himself by thinking of the modest, obscure heroes whom he has also
encountered.

So often have his previsions been deceived, that he has reached a state
of complete scepticism. He believes in nothing, neither in evil nor in
absolute good; not more in virtue than in vice.

His experience has forced him to come to the sad conclusion that not
men, but events, are worth considering.

The commissary sent for by M. Fauvel soon made his appearance.

It was with a calm air, if not one of perfect indifference, that he
entered the office.

He was followed by a short man dressed in a full suit of black, which
was slightly relieved by a crumpled collar.

The banker, scarcely bowing to him, said:

"Doubtless, monsieur, you have been apprised of the painful circumstance
which compels me to have recourse to your assistance?"

"It is about a robbery, I believe."

"Yes; an infamous and mysterious robbery committed in this office,
from the safe you see open there, of which my cashier" (he pointed to
Prosper) "alone possesses the key and the word."

This declaration seemed to arouse the unfortunate cashier from his dull
stupor.

"Excuse me, monsieur," he said to the commissary in a low tone. "My
chief also has the word and the key."

"Of course, that is understood."

The commissary at once drew his own conclusions.

Evidently these two men accused each other.

From their own statements, one or the other was guilty.

One was the head of an important bank: the other was a simple cashier.

One was the chief: the other was the clerk.

But the commissary of police was too well skilled in concealing his
impressions to betray his