He could not help smiling. This hypothesis was so absurd. Then he ran over the first lines of the article and said: “My dear Adolphe, have you read this article? ‘Is not Cartouche dead, then?’ It is a strange, a surprising article.” Adolphe and Marceline could hardly prevent a start, and looked at him with uneasiness. Théophraste began to read the article aloud, as follows: “‘For some days the police have been occupying themselves with one of the greatest of mysteries that have occurred in Paris, and with a series of odd crimes. They are endeavoring to hide from the public the most curious sides. Those crimes and the manner in which their perpetrator escapes from the police at the moment they think they have him, recall, point by point, the manner in which the celebrated Cartouche committed his crimes. If he was not enacting a thing so reprehensible, one could admire the perfect art with which the model is imitated. It is Cartouche to a finish! The police themselves have never dealt with a more mysterious bandit. Nevertheless, the administration, very mysteriously, but, we admit, very intelligently, has sent by some of them an abstract of Cartouche’s history, compiled from the manuscripts of the National Libraries. They thought, subtly, that the history of Cartouche would be useful to them, not only in the present task, which is to prevent the criminal outrages of the new Cartouche, and to arrest him, but also that Cartouche’s history ought to form a part of the general instruction to all the agents of police. “‘Finally the news was brought to us that M. Lepine, Prefect of Police, has ordered them to devote several evenings in the Prefecture to listen to lectures on the authentic history of the illustrious bandit.’ “What do you say to that?” demanded Théophraste with merriment. “It is a merry farce, and the journalists are great fellows to issue such fibs.” Neither Adolphe nor Marceline smiled. Marceline’s voice trembled slightly when she begged Théophraste to continue. He began to read again quietly: “‘The first crime of the new Cartouche did not at all present the horror that we shall find in some of the others. It was a polite crime. Let us say at once that all the crimes of which we have any knowledge, and which they attribute to the new Cartouche, have been accomplished in the last fifteen days, at the North, and always from eleven o’clock in the evening to four o’clock in the morning.’” Mme. Longuet rose, very pale. M. Lecamus made her sit down again, by a knowing shake of the head, and commanded her to be silent. Théophraste said: “What is this that they want to tell with their new Cartouche? As for me, I only know the old one. After all, let’s see the gallant polite crime,” and he read it over more and more calmly: