“On perceiving this wretch,” pursued the gendarme, who seemed not to have the shadow of a doubt of Guespin’s guilt, “Francois, the count’s valet de chambre, and Baptiste, the mayor’s servant, who were there, hastened to meet him, and seized him.  He was so tipsy that he thought they were fooling with him.  When he saw my men, he was undeceived.  Just then one of the women cried out, ’Brigand, it was you who have this night assassinated the count and the countess!’ He immediately became paler than death, and remained motionless and dumb.  Then he began to struggle so violently that he nearly escaped.  Ah! he’s strong, the rogue, although he does not look like it.”

“And he said nothing?” said Plantat.

“Not a word; his teeth were so tightly shut with rage that I’m sure he couldn’t say ‘bread.’  But we’ve got him.  I’ve searched him, and this is what I have found in his pockets:  a handkerchief, a pruning-knife, two small keys, a scrap of paper covered with figures, and an address of the establishment of ‘Vulcan’s Forges.’  But that’s not all—­”

The brigadier took a step, and eyed his auditors mysteriously; he was preparing his effect.

“That’s not all.  While they were bringing him along in the court-yard, he tried to get rid of his wallet.  Happily I had my eyes open, and saw the dodge.  I picked up the wallet, which he had thrown among the flowers near the door; here it is.  In it are a one-hundred-franc note, three napoleons, and seven francs in change.  Yesterday the rascal hadn’t a sou—­”

“How do you know that?” asked M. Domini.

“Dame!  Monsieur Judge, he borrowed of the valet Francois (who told me of it) twenty-five francs, pretending that it was to pay his share of the wedding expenses.”

“Tell Francois to come here,” said the judge of instruction.  “Now, sir,” he continued, when the valet presented himself, “do you know whether Guespin had any money yesterday?”

“He had so little, Monsieur,” answered Francois promptly, “that he asked me to lend him twenty-five francs during the day, saying that otherwise he could not go to the wedding, not having enough even to pay his railway fare.”

“But he might have some savings—­a hundred-franc note, for instance, which he didn’t like to change.”

Francois shook his head with an incredulous smile.

“Guespin isn’t the man to have savings,” said he; “Women and cards exhaust all his wages.  No longer ago than last week, the keeper of the Cafe du Commerce came here and made a row on account of what he owed him, and threatened to go to the count about it.”

Perceiving the effect of what he said, the valet, as if to correct himself, hastened to add: 

“I have no ill-will toward Guespin; before to-day I’ve always considered him a clever fellow, though he was too much of a practical joker; he was, perhaps, a little proud, considering his bringing up—­”