light by a private conversation, the commissary determined to speak to
the banker before acting decisively.

"There is not a shadow of doubt, monsieur," he said, as soon as they
were alone, "this young man has robbed you. It would be a gross neglect
of duty if I did not secure his person. The law will decide whether he
shall be released, or sent to prison."

The declaration seemed to distress the banker.

He sank into a chair, and murmured:

"Poor Prosper!"

Seeing the astonished look of his listener, he added:

"Until to-day, monsieur, I have always had the most implicit faith in
his honesty, and would have unhesitatingly confided my fortune to his
keeping. Almost on my knees have I besought and implored him to confess
that in a moment of desperation he had taken the money, promising him
pardon and forgetfulness; but I could not move him. I have loved
him; and even now, in spite of the trouble and humiliation that he is
bringing upon me, I cannot bring myself to feel harshly toward him."

The commissary looked as if he did not understand.

"What do you mean by humiliation, monsieur?"

"What!" said M. Fauvel, excitedly; "is not justice the same for all?
Because I am the head of a bank, and he only a clerk, does it follow