ix doors that opened into the courtyard. Without an
instant's hesitation he walked straight toward the very doorway he was
expected to enter--Lecoq asked himself was it chance? But his amazement
and disappointment increased tenfold when, after entering the gloomy
corridor, he saw the culprit proceed some little distance, resolutely
turn to the left, pass by the keeper's room, and finally enter the
registrar's office. An old offender could not have done better.

Big drops of perspiration stood on Lecoq's forehead. "This man," thought
he, "has certainly been here before; he knows the ropes."

The registrar's office was a large room heated almost to suffocation by
an immense stove, and badly lighted by three small windows, the panes
of which were covered with a thick coating of dust. There sat the clerk
reading a newspaper, spread out over the open register--that fatal book
in which are inscribed the names of all those whom misconduct, crime,
misfortune, madness, or error have brought to these grim portals.

Three or four attendants, who were awaiting the hour for entering upon
their duties, reclined half asleep upon the wooden benches that lined
three sides of the room. These benches, with a couple of tables, and
some dilapidated chairs, constituted the entire furniture of the office,
in one corner of which stood a measuring machine, under which each
culprit was obliged to pass, the exact height of the prisoners being
recorded in order that the description of their persons might be
complete in every respect.

At the entrance of the culprit accompanied by Lecoq, the clerk raised
his head. "Ah!" said he, "has the van arrived?"

"Yes," responded Lecoq. And showing the orders signed by M. d'Escorval,
he added: "Here are this man's papers."

The registrar took the documents and read them. "Oh!" he exclaimed,
"a triple assassination! Oh! oh!" The glance he gave the prisoner
was positively deferential. This was no common culprit, no ordinary
vagabond, no vulgar thief.

"The investigating magistrate orders a private examination," continued
the clerk, "and I must get the prisoner other clothing, as the things
he is wearing now will be used as evidence. Let some one go at once and
tell the superintendent that the other occupants of the van must wait."

At this moment, the governor of the Depot entered the office. The clerk
at once dipped his pen in the ink, and turning to the prisoner he asked:
"What is your name?"

"May.