After dinner he went to his stores, gave some orders, and then entered his office. At half past six he came upstairs again, and told his wife he was going to walk. And he had not been seen since! After carefully noting these particulars, the commissary requested Mme. Jandidier to let him speak with her alone a few minutes. She made a sign of assent, and Mlle. Thérèse left the room. “Pardon the question I am about to ask, madame,” said the police officer. “Do you know whether your husband--again I beg you to excuse me--had any ties outside of his own family?” Mme. Jandidier started up; anger dried her tears. “I have been married twenty-three years, monsieur, and my husband has never returned home later than ten o’clock.” “Was your husband in the habit of going to any club or café, madame?” continued the officer. “Never; I wouldn’t have allowed it.” “Did he usually carry valuables on his person?” “I don’t know; I attended to my housekeeping and didn’t trouble myself about business matters.” It was impossible to get anything more from the haughty wife, who was fairly bewildered by sorrow. Having performed his duty, the commissary thought he ought to give the poor woman a little commonplace consolation. But on withdrawing, after an examination of the house, he felt very anxious, and began to suspect that a crime had been committed. That very evening one of the most skillful members of the detective force, Rétiveau, better known in the Rue de Jerusalem under the name of Maitre Magloire, was put on M. Jandidier’s track, supplied with an excellent photograph of the merchant. II. The very day after M. Jandidier’s disappearance, Maitre Magloire appeared at the Palais de justice to report what he had done to the magistrate in charge of the affair. “Ah! there you are, Monsieur Magloire,” said the magistrate; “so you’ve discovered something?” “I am on the trail, monsieur.” “Speak.” “To begin with, Monsieur Jandidier did not leave home at half past six o’clock, but precisely seven.” “Precisely?” “Precisely. I ascertained that from a clock-maker in the Rue Saint Denis, who is sure of it, because while passing his shop, Monsieur Jandidier took out his watch to see if it was exactly like the clock over the door. He held an unlighted cigar in his mouth. Having discovered this last circumstance, I said to myself, ‘I have it! He’ll light his cigar somewhere.’ I reasoned correctly; he went into a retail shop on the Boulevard du Temple, whose mistress knows him very well. The fact was impressed on the woman’s memory because he always smoked sou cigars, and this time bought London ones.” “How did he appear?”