“Exactly the argument I expected you to use.  You showed your shrewdness precisely by staying to face the storm, instead of flying the country.  Several recent suits have taught dishonest cashiers that flight abroad is dangerous.  Railways travel fast, but telegrams travel faster.  A French thief can be arrested in London within forty-eight hours after his description has been telegraphed.  Even America is no longer a refuge.  You remained prudently and wisely, saying to yourself, ’I will manage to avoid suspicion; and, even if I am found out, I shall be free again after three or five years’ seclusion, with a large fortune to enjoy.’  Many people would sacrifice five years of their lives for three hundred and fifty thousand francs.”

“But monsieur, had I calculated in the manner you describe, I should not have been content with three hundred and fifty thousand francs; I should have waited for an opportunity to steal half a million.  I often have that sum in charge.”

“Oh! it is not always convenient to wait.”

Prosper was buried in deep thought for some minutes.

“Monsieur,” he finally said, “there is one detail I forgot to mention before, and it may be of importance.”

“Explain, if you please.”

“The office messenger whom I sent to the Bank of France for the money must have seen me tie up the bundle, and put it away in the safe.  At any rate, he knows that I left the bank before he did.”

“Very well; the man shall be examined.  Now you can return to your cell; and once more I advise you to consider the consequences of your persistent denial.”

M. Patrigent thus abruptly dismissed Prosper because he wished to immediately act upon this last piece of information.

“Sigault,” said he as soon as Prosper had left the room, “is not this Antonin the man who was excused from testifying because he sent a doctor’s certificate declaring him too ill to appear?”

“It is, monsieur.”

“Where doe he live?”

“Fanferlot says he was so ill that he was taken to the hospital—­the Dubois Hospital.”

“Very well.  I am going to examine him to-day, this very hour.  Take your pen and paper, and send for a carriage.”

It was some distance from the Palais de Justice to the Dubois Hospital; but the cabman, urged by the promise of a large fee, made his sorry jades fly as if they were blooded horses.

Would Antonin be able to answer any questions?

The physician in charge of the hospital said that, although the man suffered horribly from a broken knee, his mind was perfectly clear.

“That being the case, monsieur,” said the judge, “I wish to examine him, and desire that no one be admitted while he makes his deposition.”

“Oh! you will not be intruded upon, monsieur; his room contains four beds, but they are just now unoccupied.”

When Antonin saw the judge enter, followed by a little weazened man in black, with a portfolio under his arm, he at once knew what he had come for.