IV.

“Well, Hinnissy, to get back to Rennes.  Whin I left off, th’ air was full iv rumors iv an approachin’ massacree.  It was still full at daybreak.  Exthraordinney measures was adopted to provide again disturbance.  Th’ gyard was doubled, an’ both polismen had all they cud do to keep th’ crowd in ordher.  Th’ English an’ American journalists appeared at th’ thrile wrapped up in th’ flags iv their rayspictive counthries.  All th’ Jews, excipt th’ owners iv anti-Jew papers fr’m Paris, wore heavy masks an’ kep’ their hands in their pockets.  At four o’clock th’ prisident called th’ aujience to disordher, an’, havin’ disentangled Gin’ral Merceer an’ a former prisident iv th’ raypublic, demanded if Moosoo Bertillon was in th’ room.

“‘Here,’ says that gr-reat janius, descindin’ fr’m th’ roof in a parachute.  Ye know Bertillon.  Ye don’t?  Iv coorse ye do, Hinnissy.  He’s th’ la-ad that invinted th’ system iv ditictive wurruk med aisy that they use down in th’ Cintral Polis Station.  I mind wanst, afther ‘twas inthrojooced, th’ loot says to Andy Rohan,—­he’s a sergeant now, be hivins!—­he says, ‘Go out,’ he says, ‘an’ fetch in Mike McGool, th’ safe robber,’ he says.  ‘Here’s his description,’ he says:  ’eyelashes, eight killomethres long; eyes, blue an’ assymethrical; jaw, bituminous; measuremint fr’m abaft th’ left ear to base iv maxillory glan’s, four hectograms; a r-red scar runnin’ fr’m th’ noomo-gasthric narve to th’ sicond dorsal verteebree,’ he says.  ‘Tis so.  I have th’ description at home in th’ cash dhrawer.  Well, Andy come in about six o’clock that night, lookin’ as though he’d been thryin’ to r-run a fut race acrost a pile iv scrap ir’n; an’ says he, ‘Loot,’ he says, ’I’ve got him,’ he says.  “I didn’t take th’ measuremints,’ he says, ‘because, whin I pulled out th’ tape line, he rowled me eighty hectograms down th’ sthreet,’ he says.  ’But ‘tis Mike McGool,’ he says.  ‘I don’t know annything about his noomo-gasthric narves,’ he says, ‘but I reco’nized his face,’ he says.  ’I’ve r-run him in fifty times,’ he says.

“Bertillon, besides bein’ a profissor iv detictives, is a handwritin’ expert, which is wan iv th’ principal industhries iv Fr-rance at th’ prisint time.  He was accompanied be a throop iv assistants carryin’ a camera, a mutoscope, a magic lantern, a tib iv dye, a telescope, a calceem light, a sextant, a compass, a thermometer, a barometer, a thrunkful iv speeches, a duplicate to th’ Agyptian obelisk, an ink-eraser, an’ a rayceipt f’r makin’ goold out iv lead pipe.

“‘Well, sir,’ says Bertillon, ‘what d’ye want?’

“‘Nawthin’,’ says th’ coort.  ‘Didn’t ye ask to be called here?’

“‘No,’ says Bertillon, ‘an’ ye didn’t ask me, ayther.  I come.  Ye said jus’ now, Why do I believe th’ Cap’s guilty?  I will show ye.  In th’ spring iv ninety-five or th’ fall iv sixty-eight, I disraymimber which, Gin’ral Merceer’—­