This declaration seemed to arouse the unfortunate cashier from his dull
stupor.

"Excuse me, monsieur," he said to the commissary in a low tone. "My
chief also has the word and the key."

"Of course, that is understood."

The commissary at once drew his own conclusions.

Evidently these two men accused each other.

From their own statements, one or the other was guilty.

One was the head of an important bank: the other was a simple cashier.

One was the chief: the other was the clerk.

But the commissary of police was too well skilled in concealing his
impressions to betray his thoughts by any outward sign. Not a muscle of
his face moved.

But he became more grave, and alternately watched the cashier and M.
Fauvel, as if trying to draw some profitable conclusion from their
behavior.

Prosper was very pale and dejected. He had dropped into a seat, and his
arms hung inert on either side of the chair.

The banker, on the contrary, remained standing with flashing eyes and