Just at this moment there was a stir among the people round the door, and we heard the officers of the court cry out, “Room! make way there!” and the same moment General Duroc entered, accompanied by an aide-de-camp. He had been sent specially by the Emperor to ascertain what progress the investigation had made. His Majesty had determined to push the inquiry to its utmost limits. The general appeared dissatisfied with the little prospect there appeared of elucidation; and turning to Duchesne, remarked,-- “This is peculiarly ill-timed just now, as negotiations are pending with Russia, and the prince's family are about the person of the Czar.” “But as the wound would seem of little consequence, in a few days perhaps the whole thing may blow over,” said Duchesne. “It is for that very reason,” replied Duroc, earnestly, “that we are pressed for time. The object is to mark the sentiments of his Majesty _now_. Should the prince be once pronounced out of danger, it will be too late for sympathy.” “Oh! I perceive,” said Duchesne, smiling; “your observation is most just. If my friend here, however, cannot put you on the track, I fear you have little to hope for elsewhere.” “I am aware of that; and Monsieur Cauchois knows the great reliance his Majesty reposes in his skill and activity.” Monsieur Cauchois, the _commissaire_, bowed with a most respectful air at the compliment, probably of all others the highest that could be paid him. “A brilliant soirée we had last evening, Duchesne,” said the general. “I hope this unhappy affair will not close that house at present; you are aware the prince is the suitor of mademoiselle?” “I only suspected as much,” said the chevalier, with a peculiar smile; “it was my first evening there.” As General Duroc addressed a few words in a low tone to the _commissaire_, the man called Bocquin approached the bench, and handed up a small slip of paper to Duchesne. The chevalier opened it, and having thrown his eyes over it, passed it into my hand. All I could see were two words, written coarsely with the pencil,--“How much?” The chevalier turned the back of the paper, and wrote, “Fifty napoleons.” On reading which the large man tore the scrap, and nodding slightly with his head, sauntered from the room. We rose a few moments after, and having taken a formal leave of the general and the _commissaire_, proceeded towards the street, where we had left our horses. As we passed along the corridor, however, we found Bocquin awaiting us. He opened a door into a small, mean-looking apartment, of which he appeared the owner. Having ushered us in, and cautiously closed it behind him, he drew from his pocket a piece of cloth, to which a button and a piece of gold embroidery were attached. “Your jacket would be spoiled without this morsel, Captain,” said he, laughing, in a low, dry laugh.