Several hours later, Muller re-entered the police station in his
home town and saw the windows of the chief's apartment brilliantly
lighted. "What's going on," he asked of Baner's servant who was
just hurrying up the stairs.

"The mistress' birthday, we've got company."

Muller grumbled something and went on up to his own room. He knew
it would not be pleasant for his patron to be disturbed in the midst
of entertaining his guests, but the matter was important and could
not wait.

The detective laid off his outer garments, made a few changes in
his toilet and putting the goldsmith's declaration, with the ring
and the bullet in his pocketbook, he went down to the first floor
of the building, in one wing of which was the apartment occupied by
the Chief. He sent in his name and was told to wait in the little
study. He sat down quietly in a corner of the comfortable little
room beyond which, in a handsomely furnished smoking room, a number
of guests sat playing cards. From the drawing rooms beyond, there
was the sound of music and many voices.

It was all very attractive and comfortable, and the solitary man
sat there enjoying once more the pleasant sensation of triumph, of
joy at the victory that was his alone and that would win him back
all his old friends and prestige. He was looking forward in
agreeable anticipation to the explanations he had to give, when he
suddenly started and grew pale. His eyes dimmed a moment, then he
pulled himself together and murmured: "No, no, not this time. I