In the meanwhile I bethought me of the velvet-covered box in my breast pocket, and of the ginger-coloured hair and whiskers that I was still wearing, and which might prove an unpleasant “piece de conviction” in case the police were after the stolen bracelet.

With a view to examining the one and getting rid of the other, I turned into the Square Louvois, which, as usual, was very dark and wholly deserted.  Here I took off my wig and whiskers and threw them over the railings into the garden.  Then I drew the velvet-covered box from my pocket, opened it, and groped for its contents.  Imagine my feelings, my dear Sir, when I realised that the case was empty!  Fate was indeed against me that night.  I had been fooled and cheated by a traitor, and had risked New Orleans and worse for an empty box.

For a moment I must confess that I lost that imperturbable sang-froid which is the admiration of all my friends, and with a genuine oath I flung the case over the railings in the wake of the milor’s hair and whiskers.  Then I hurried home.

Theodore had not returned.  He did not come in until the small hours of the morning, and then he was in a state that I can only describe, with your permission, as hoggish.  He could hardly speak.  I had him at my mercy.  Neither tact nor wariness was required for the moment.  I stripped him to his skin; he only laughed like an imbecile.  His eyes had a horrid squint in them; he was hideous.  I found five francs in one of his pockets, but neither in his clothes nor on his person did I find the bracelet.

“What have you done with it?” I cried, for by this time I was maddened with rage.

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” he stammered thickly, as he tottered towards his bed.  “Give me back my five francs, you thief!” the brutish creature finally blurted out ere he fell into a hog-like sleep.

4.

Desperate evils need desperate remedies.  I spent the rest of the night thinking hard.  By the time that dawn was breaking my mind was made up.  Theodore’s stertorous breathing assured me that he was still insentient.  I was muscular in those days, and he a meagre, attenuated, drink-sodden creature.  I lifted him out of his bed in the antechamber and carried him into mine in the office.  I found a coil of rope, and strapped him tightly in the chair-bedstead so that he could not move.  I tied a scarf round his mouth so that he could not scream.  Then, at six o’clock, when the humbler eating-houses begin to take down their shutters, I went out.

I had Theodore’s five francs in my pocket, and I was desperately hungry.  I spent ten sous on a cup of coffee and a plate of fried onions and haricot beans, and three francs on a savoury pie, highly flavoured with garlic, and a quarter-bottle of excellent cognac.  I drank the coffee and ate the onions and the beans, and I took the pie and cognac home.

I placed a table close to the chair-bedstead and on it I disposed the pie and the cognac in such a manner that the moment Theodore woke his eyes were bound to alight on them.  Then I waited.  I absolutely ached to have a taste of that pie myself, it smelt so good, but I waited.