“That’s the reason, then,” he said, “why you were so long opening the door?”

A sarcastic smile appeared upon the lips of the editor of “The Pilot.”

“Private matters,” he replied; “women’s letters.”

“This will be moral evidence against you, sir.”

“I prefer it to material evidence.”

Without condescending to notice the impertinence, the commissary was casting a suspicious glance on Maxence and M. de Tregars.

“Who are these gentlemen who were closeted with you?” he asked.

“Visitors, sir.  This is M. Favoral.”

“The son of the cashier of the Mutual Credit?”

“Exactly; and this gentleman is the Marquis de Tregars.”

“You should have opened the door when you heard a knocking in the name of the law,” grumbled the commissary.

But he did not insist.  Taking a paper from his pocket, he opened it, and, handing it to M. Saint Pavin,

“I have orders to arrest you,” he said.  “Here is the warrant.”

With a careless gesture, the other pushed it back.  “What’s the use of reading?” he said.  “When I heard of the arrest of that poor Jottras, I guessed at once what was in store for me.  It is about the Mutual Credit swindle, I imagine.”

“Exactly.”

“I have no more to do with it than yourself, sir; and I shall have very little trouble in proving it.  But that is not your business.  And you are going, I suppose, to put the seals on my papers?”

“Except on those that you have burnt.”

M. Saint Pavin burst out laughing.  He had recovered his coolness and his impudence, and seemed as much at ease as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Shall I be allowed to speak to my clerks,” he asked, “and to give them my instructions?”

“Yes,” replied the commissary, “but in my presence.”

The clerks, being called, appeared, consternation depicted upon their countenances, but joy sparkling in their eyes.  In reality they were delighted at the misfortune which befell their employer.

“You see what happens to me, my boys,” he said.  “But don’t be uneasy.  In less than forty-eight hours, the error of which I am the victim will be recognized, and I shall be liberated on bail.  At any rate, I can rely upon you, can’t I?”

They all swore that they would be more attentive and more zealous than ever.

And then addressing himself to his cashier, who was his confidential and right-hand man,

“As to you, Bernard,” he said, “you will run to M. de Thaller’s, and advise him of what’s going on.  Let him have funds ready; for all our depositors will want to draw out their money at once.  You will then call at the printing-office:  have my article on the Mutual Credit kept out, and insert in its place some financial news cut out from other papers.  Above all, don’t mention my arrest, unless M. de Thaller should demand it.  Go ahead, and let ’The Pilot’ appear as usual:  that’s important.”