y idle
questions, had discovered that the Fauvel bank had no outlet on the Rue
de la Victoire, and that consequently all the clerks were obliged to
pass in and out through the main entrance on the Rue de Provence.

From this moment the task he had undertaken no longer presented a shadow
of difficulty. He rapidly crossed the street, and took up his position
under a gateway.

His post of observation was admirably chosen; not only could he see
everyone who entered and came out of the bank, but also commanded a view
of all the windows, and by standing on tiptoe could look through the
grating, and see Cavaillon bending over his desk.

Fanferlot waited a long time, but did not wax impatient, for he had
often had to remain on watch entire days and nights at a time, with much
less important objects in view than the present one. Besides, his mind
was busily occupied in estimating the value of his discoveries, weighing
his chances, and, like Perrette with her pot of milk, building the
foundation of his fortune upon present success.

Finally, about one o'clock, he saw Cavaillon rise from his desk, change
his coat, and take down his hat.

"Very good!" he exclaimed, "my man is coming out; I must keep my eyes
open."

The next moment Cavaillon appeared at the door of the bank; but
before stepping on the pavement he looked up and down the street in an
undecided manner.

"Can he suspect anything?" thought Fanferlot.

No, the young clerk suspected nothing; only having a commission to
execute, and fearing his absence would be observed, he was debating with
himself which would be the shortest road for him to take.

He soon decided, entered the Faubourg Montmartre, and walked up the Rue
Notre Dame de Lorette so rapidly, utterly regardless of the grumbling
passers-by whom he elbowed out of his way, that Fanferlot found it
difficult to keep him in sight.

Reaching the Rue Chaptal, Cavaillon suddenly stopped, and entered the
house numbered 39.

He had scarcely taken three steps in the narrow corridor when he felt a
touch on his shoulder, and turning abruptly, found himself face to face
with Fanferlot.

He recognized him at once, and turning very pale he shrank back, and
looked around for means of escape.

But the detective, anticipating the attempt, barred the passage-way.
Cavaillon saw that he was fairly caught.

"What do you want with me?" he asked in a voice tremulous with fright.

Fanferlot was distinguished among his c