"You can not restore him to life, my lad," said Puymirol, who never lost his presence of mind. "This is no time for weeping. The commissary of police must be warned. Fetch him immediately, and, on your way out, tell the doorkeeper what has happened, and ask him to come up. We don't care to remain alone with the body. Upon the whole, it will be best for us to go down with you, I think. Our unfortunate friend is beyond all human aid, and the suicide must be established at once." Neither Caumont nor the valet made any objections, and the trio hastened downstairs. "My master has shot himself," cried the valet to the doorkeeper. "These gentlemen can testify that I was not present when the accident occurred! On returning home, a few moments ago, I found them ringing at the door, so I opened it for them with my key." "It is really impossible," said the doorkeeper in alarm. "I saw him this morning, and he seemed to be in the best of spirits. He even warned me that he meant to give up his apartments on account of his approaching marriage." "We didn't come here to talk," interrupted Puymirol. "This fellow is going for the commissary of police; you had better come upstairs with us, and remain until he brings some official back with him." The doorkeeper assented; the valet hastened off; and the two friends, having again ascended the stairs, this time with the cerberus of the house, re-entered the apartments where nothing had been disturbed during their absence. Not caring to approach the body, they all three of them remained in the ante-chamber. "Are you well acquainted with this valet?" Puymirol inquired of the doorkeeper. "Yes, sir. He has been in Monsieur Dargental's employ for three years. I assure you that he is quite incapable of a crime, and fully deserves all the confidence my unfortunate tenant placed in him. This very morning, Monsieur Dargental gave him a letter for the Countess de Lescombat, his intended wife. I was standing at my door as he passed out, and Jean stopped for a moment to chat with me. While we were talking, he said: 'Ah! Monsieur Pinchon, I am so attached to my master that--'" The sound of footsteps upon the stairs cut M. Pinchon short. The valet was returning, bringing with him in lieu of the commissary, who was absent from his office, that functionary's secretary, an intelligent, wide-awake-looking young man. Having been enlightened on the way by the servant, the secretary walked straight to the body, examined it carefully but without touching it, and said curtly: "This chair is not in its accustomed place." The other chairs were, in fact, arranged in lines along the walls, but this one stood in the middle of the room, and almost directly opposite the door. "This is the first time I ever heard of a man sitting down to shoot himself," continued the official. "Do you suspect a crime, then?" inquired Puymirol.