“This is more abominable still!  At least there was some pluck about those forged receipts of Gagneux.  But this time he is as contemptible as a cook charging twopence extra for her cabbages.  Powers of hell!  To pilfer a franc and a half and clap it in his pocket!  Hasn’t the brute got any pride then?  Couldn’t he run away with the safe or play the fool with actresses?”

The pitiful meanness of these pilferings revolted the major, and, moreover, he was enraged at having been duped a second time, deceived by the simple, stupid dodge of falsified additions.  He rose at last and paced his office for a whole hour, growling aloud.

“This gives me his measure.  Even if I were to thresh him to a jelly every morning he would still drop a couple of coins into his pocket every afternoon.  But where can he spend it all?  He is never seen abroad; he goes to bed at nine, and everything looks so clean and proper over there.  Can the brute have vices that nobody knows of?”

He returned to the desk, added up the subtracted money and found a total of five hundred and forty-five francs.  Where was this deficiency to come from?  The inspection was close at hand, and if the crotchety colonel should take it into his head to examine a single page, the murder would be out and Burle would be done for.

This idea froze the major, who left off cursing, picturing Mme Burle erect and despairing, and at the same time he felt his heart swell with personal grief and shame.

“Well,” he muttered, “I must first of all look into the rogue’s business; I will act afterward.”

As he walked over to Burle’s office he caught sight of a skirt vanishing through the doorway.  Fancying that he had a clue to the mystery, he slipped up quietly and listened and speedily recognized Melanie’s shrill voice.  She was complaining of the gentlemen of the divan.  She had signed a promissory note which she was unable to meet; the bailiffs were in the house, and all her goods would be sold.  The captain, however, barely replied to her.  He alleged that he had no money, whereupon she burst into tears and began to coax him.  But her blandishments were apparently ineffectual, for Burle’s husky voice could be heard repeating, “Impossible!  Impossible!” And finally the widow withdrew in a towering passion.  The major, amazed at the turn affairs were taking, waited a few moments longer before entering the office, where Burle had remained alone.  He found him very calm, and despite his furious inclination to call him names he also remained calm, determined to begin by finding out the exact truth.

The office certainly did not look like a swindler’s den.  A cane-seated chair, covered with an honest leather cushion, stood before the captain’s desk, and in a corner there was the locked safe.  Summer was coming on, and the song of a canary sounded through the open window.  The apartment was very neat and tidy, redolent of old papers, and altogether its appearance inspired one with confidence.