under an accusation of robbery, and was about to be arrested.

He soon stopped playing with the pencil, and drew toward him a sheet of
paper upon which he hastily wrote a few lines.

"Ah, ha!" thought Fanferlot the Squirrel, whose hearing and sight were
wonderfully good in spite of his profound sleep, "eh! eh! he makes his
little confidential communication on paper, I see; now we will discover
something positive."

His note written, Prosper folded it carefully into the smallest possible
size, and after furtively glancing toward the detective, who remained
motionless in his corner, threw it across the desk to little Cavaillon
with this one word:

"Gypsy!"

All this was so quickly and skilfully done that Fanferlot was
confounded, and began to feel a little uneasy.

"The devil take him!" said he to himself; "for a suffering innocent this
young dandy has more pluck and nerve than many of my oldest customers.
This, however, shows the result of education!"

Yes: innocent or guilty, Prosper must have been endowed with great
self-control and power of dissimulation to affect this presence of mind
at a time when his honor, his future happiness, all that he held dear in
life, were at stake. And he was only thirty years old.

Either from natural deference, or from the hope of gaining some ray of