"You are a noted thief, and you obtained your nickname by reason of your dexterity in picking locks and climbing through scullery windows?" "If you say so, monsieur, your words cannot be disputed." "Very well." The commissary scratched a few lines on a memorandum tablet. Then he suddenly raised his quick eyes and fastened them on the prisoner with the direct question-- "How came you to be detained in such an extraordinary manner in the house, No. 11, Rue Barbette, yesterday?" A vacant and stolid expression intended to convey an idea of utter innocence came over "The Worm's" face. "Believe me, monsieur," he said, "I cannot give you the slightest explanation of that extraordinary incident." "Indeed! You surprise me. I suppose you wish me to understand that you casually strolled in out of the street and were set upon by three Turks, who gagged you and bound you with leather thongs, leaving you to starve quietly to death if you had not been rescued by reason of a chance visit paid to the place by myself and others?" "I assure you, monsieur, that, strange as it may seem, you have almost related the facts. I went to the place in question with a very ordinary message from a Turkish gentleman with whom I have a slight acquaintance. The other Turks listened to me with the gravity peculiar to their nation, and then, before I could offer a word of remonstrance, treated me exactly as you saw." "At what time did you go there?" "It must have been nearly three o'clock, the day before yesterday," was the answer. "And what message did you bring?" "I was told to ask the Turkish gentlemen to be good enough to cross the Pont Neuf exactly at half-past six, when they would meet a friend who desired to give some information to them." "Oh! come now," said the commissary, with a knowing smile, "that will not do, Petit. You are far too old a hand to convey such a childish message as that. What reason can you have for seeking to shield these men who treated you in a barbarous way and left you to die a cruel death?" "On my honour----" began the thief melodramatically, but Brett here interrupted the conversation. "Will you allow me," he said to the commissary, "to put a few questions to this man?" "Certainly," was the answer. "Now listen," said Brett, sternly gazing at the truculent little rascal with those searching eyes of his, which seemed to reach to the very spine. "It is useless for you to attempt any further prevarication. We know exactly who are your confederates. We are acquainted with a large number of the gang that frequents the Café Noir. Do not forget that I was present when you tried to palm off on Hussein-ul-Mulk the false diamonds, which your confederates hoped he would accept. For you to attempt now to escape from the law is hopeless. The sole chance you have of remitting a punishment which may even lead you beneath the guillotine is to confess fully and freely all that you know concerning the outrage which has been committed.