ime was it?"

"Half-past three."

"Do you think that death could have occurred at this moment?" the
commissioner asked, turning to Saniel.

"No; I think it must have been between five and six o'clock."

"It is wrong for the commissioner to suspect Monsieur Florentin," cried
the concierge. "He is a good young man, incapable of harming a fly.
And then, there is a good reason why death could not have taken place
between three o'clock and half-past; it is that Monsieur Caffie's lamp
was lighted, and you know the poor gentleman was not a man to light his
lamp in broad daylight, looking as he was--"

She stopped abruptly, striking her forehead with her hand.

"That is what I remember, and you will see that Monsieur Florentin has
nothing to do with this affair. As I went upstairs at a quarter past
five to light my gas, some one came behind me and rang Monsieur Caffie's
bell, and rapped three or four times at equal distances, which is the
signal to open the door."

Again Saniel's pen stopped, and he was obliged to lean his hand on the
table to prevent its trembling.

"Who was it?"

"Ah! That I do not know," she answered. "I did not see him, but I heard
him, the step of a man. It was this rascal who killed him, you may be
sure."

This seemed likely.

"He went out while I was on the stairs; he knew the customs of the
house."

Saniel continued his report.

After having questioned and cross-questioned the concierge without being
able to make her say more, the commissioner dismissed her, and leaving
Saniel at his work, he passed into Caffie's office, where he remained a
long time.

When he returned he brought a small note-book that he consulted. Without
doubt it was the book of Caffie's safe, simple and primitive, like
everything relating to the old man's habits, governed by the narrowest
economy in his expenses, as well as in his work.

"According to this note-book," the commissioner said to his secretary,
"thirty-five or thirty-six thousand francs must have been taken from the
safe; but there are left deeds and papers for a large sum."

Saniel, who had finished his report, did not take his eyes from the
note-book, and what he could see reassured him. Evidently these accounts
were reduced to a minimum: a date, a name, a sum, and after this name
a capital P, which, without doubt, meant "paid." It was hardly possible
that with such a system Caffie had ever taken the trouble to enter the
number of the bills that