breeches' pocket there was a greasy and crumpled sheet of letter-paper, which on examination was found to be covered with a row of numerals all at random--like a child's exercise-book." "Could I see the paper?" "It is at the commissariat of police," explained the Procureur curtly. "Where I can easily find it, of course," concluded the Man in Grey with calm decision. "In the meanwhile perhaps Monsieur le préfet will be kind enough to tell me something more about the burglary at the Archbishop's Palace." "There's very little to tell, my good Monsieur Fernand," said M. Vimars, who, far more conscious than was the stranger of the Procureur's growing impatience, would have given a month's salary for the privilege of making himself scarce. "With what booty did the burglars make off?" "With nothing of any value; and what they did get they dropped in their flight. The police found a small silver candlestick, and a brass paper weight in the street close to the gate of Monseigneur's Palace, also one or two books which no doubt the burglars had seized in the hope that they were valuable editions." "Nothing, then, has actually been stolen?" "Nothing. I believe that Monseigneur told the chief commissary that one or two of his books are still missing, but none of any value. So you see, my good Monsieur--er--Fernand," concluded M. Vimars blandly, "that the whole matter is quite beneath your consideration. It is a case of a vulgar murder with only a private grudge by way of motive--and an equally vulgar attempt at burglary, fortunately with no evil results. Our local police--though none too efficient, alas! in these strenuous days, when His Majesty's army claims the flower of our manhood--is well able to cope with these simple matters, which, of course, must occur in every district from time to time. You may take it from me--and I have plenty of experience, remember--that the matter has no concern whatever with the Chouans and with your mission here. You can, quite conscientiously, devote the whole of your time to the case of the highway robbery the other night, and the recovery of the sixty-two hundred francs which were stolen from the coach, as well as the tracking of that daring rascal with the wooden leg." Satisfied with his peroration, M. Vimars at last felt justified in moving towards the door. "I don't think," he concluded with suave obsequiousness, "that we need take up any more of Monsieur le Procureur's valuable time, and with his gracious permission----" To his intense relief, M. Vimars perceived that the Man in Grey was at last prepared to take his leave. M. de Saint-Tropèze, plainly at the end of his patience, delighted to be rid of his tiresome visitors, at once became pleasantly condescending. To the secret agent of His Majesty's Police he gave a quite 

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