“And you’ve been giving orders to young Bobet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“By what authority?”

“Go in there and you’ll find out,” sneered the fat man, jerking a derisive thumb toward Hauteville’s door.

A moment later M. Paul entered the judge’s private room, and the latter, rising from his desk, came forward with a look of genuine friendliness and concern.

“My dear Coquenil,” exclaimed Hauteville, with cordial hand extended.  “I’m glad to see you but—­you must prepare for bad news.”

Coquenil eyed him steadily.  “I see, they have taken me off this case.”

The judge nodded gravely.  “Worse than that, they have taken you off the force.  Your commission is canceled.”

“But—­but why?” stammered the other.

“For influencing Dedet to break a rule about a prisoner au secret; as a matter of fact, you were foolish to write that letter.”

“I thought the girl might get important evidence from her lover.”

“No doubt, but you ought to have asked me for an order.  I would have given it to you, and then there would have been no trouble.”

“It was late and the matter was urgent.  After all you approve of what I did?”

“Yes, but not of the way you did it.  Technically you were at fault, and—­I’m afraid you will have to suffer.”

M. Paul thought a moment.

“Did you make the complaint against me?”

“No, no!  Between ourselves, I should have passed the thing over as unimportant, but—­well, the order came from higher up.”

“You mean the chief revoked my commission?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen the chief, but the order came from his office.”

“With this prison affair given as the reason?”

“Yes.”

“And now Gibelin is in charge of the case?”

“Yes.”

“And I am discharged from the force?  Discharged in disgrace?”

“It’s a great pity, but——­”

“Do you think I’ll stand for it?  Do you know me so little as that?” cut in the other with increasing heat.

“I don’t see what you’re going to do,” opposed the judge mildly.

“You don’t?  Then I’ll tell you that—­” Coquenil checked himself at a sudden thought.  “After all, what I do is not important, but I’ll tell you what Gibelin will do, and that is important, he will let this American go to trial and be found guilty for want of evidence that would save him.”

“Not if I can help it,” replied Hauteville, ruffled at this reflection on his judicial guidance of the investigation.

“No offense,” said M. Paul, “but this is a case where even as able a judge as yourself must have special assistance and—­Gibelin couldn’t find the truth in a thousand years.  Do you think he’s fit to handle this case?”

“Officially I have no opinion,” answered Hauteville guardedly, “but I don’t mind telling you personally that I—­I’m sorry to lose you.”