he commissary.

"Charles Petit."

"Age?"

"Believed to be twenty-seven, but as no record was kept of my birth I
cannot be certain."

"Abode?"

"Changeable. Of late I have dwelt in the Cabaret Noir, Boulevard de
Montmartre."

"You are generally known as 'The Worm?'"

"That is so."

"You have served several periods of imprisonment, and have paid over 400
francs in fines?"

"I have not kept count, but I suppose it is all written down there." And
he jerked his thumb towards the conviction book on the commissary's
desk.

"You are a noted thief, and you obtained your nickname by reason of your
dexterity in picking locks and climbing through scullery windows?"

"If you say so, monsieur, your words cannot be disputed."

"Very well." The commissary scratched a few lines on a memorandum
tablet. Then he suddenly raised his quick eyes and fastened them on the
prisoner with the direct question--

"How came you to be detained in such an extraordinary manner in the
house, No. 11, Rue Barbette, yesterday?"

A vacant and stolid expression intended to convey an idea of utter
innocence came over "The Worm's" face.

"Believe me, monsieur," he said, "I cannot give you the slightest
explanation of that extraordinary incident."

"Indeed! You surprise me. I suppose you wish me to understand that you
casually strolled in out of the street and were set upon by three Turks,
who gagged you and bound you with leather thongs, leaving you to starve
quietly to death if you had not been rescued by reason of a chance visit
paid to the place by myself and others?"

"I assure you, monsieur, that, strange as it may seem, you have almost
related the facts. I went to the place in question with a very ordinary
message from a Turkish gentleman with whom I have a slight acquaintance.
The other Turks listened to me with the gravity peculiar to their
nation, and then, before I could offer a word of remonstrance, treated
me exactly as you saw."

"At what time did you go there?"

"It must have been nearly three o'clock, the day before yesterday," was
the answer.

"And what message did you bring?"

"I was told to ask the Turkish gentlemen to be good enough to cross the
Pont Neuf exactly at half-past six, when they would meet a friend who
desired to give some information to them."

"Oh! come now," said the commissary, with a knowing smile, "that will
not do, Petit. You are far too old a hand to convey such a childish
message as that. W