Punctually the clerks arrived at the office, one by one, and took their places at their desks. Their chief stepped at once to the door leading from his own room into the office, and, without any salutations, began to question the head clerk in a preoccupied manner. “Philippeaux, I can’t find the key of the safe.” “Why, here it is, sir,” replied the clerk. “You handed it to me to take care of while you were away. I have not used it.” “Good. Come with me, then.” The two men passed into the study. Mr. Frasne opened the safe and noticed at once a certain disorder in its contents. “You have been looking for something, a will perhaps?” he asked blandly. Philippeaux protested with the greatest energy. “No, sir. I can swear to it.” “Then I don’t understand any better than I did at first. Wait a moment. This envelope has been torn open. It contained the money from the purchase of Belvade: one hundred and twenty thousand francs. We counted it together.” “That’s true,” agreed the frightened clerk. Still very calm, the notary did not pursue his investigation any further, closing the safe carefully. “Some one has been in here.” “But it’s not possible, sir.” “I tell you some one has been here. We’ll check up the contents before the commissioner of police. Who shut up the office last night?” “Maurice Roquevillard.” “Did he stay here alone?” “Yes, to write some letters.” “How long?” “I don’t know. I met him under the Porticoes half an hour later. He gave me the keys.” “The keys? The key of the safe was in your bunch?” “Yes.” “That was imprudent.” After a silence Mr. Frasne resumed: “Why has he not come yet?” “Who?” “Maurice Roquevillard.” “He won’t come,” flung out the clerk vindictively. Mr. Frasne fixed him with his perspicacious eyes. He drew two conclusions from this examination: the rumour of his misfortune was already running through the town, and Philippeaux, whose jealousy he suspected, would be a safe ally for him. Nevertheless, he pretended ignorance. “That’s right. He ought to be with his father.” “No, Mr. Frasne. He took the train last night at midnight.” “Where for?” “Italy!” “Ah, I understand at last,” avowed the solicitor this time. And slowly he pronounced his decree against Maurice: “It’s he, then, that will have forced my safe. How did he discover the combination?” Philippeaux bent his head: fear and envy made an informer out of him. “The combination is written down in my memorandum book, though with nothing to identify it: my memory’s not good. Roquevillard might have seen it and suspected its use.” Again Mr. Frasne, whom all the circumstances favoured, scrutinised his clerk and concealed his inward satisfaction. “You have been doubly imprudent, Philippeaux. Take one of your comrades and call the commissioner of police. He shall make a strict search here himself.”