"The fourth occasion was quite recently," Bezard said, still speaking in that same cold tone. "On that occasion you made certain calculations to ascertain how much were your profits by dealing with these forgers whom Scotland Yard are so anxious to arrest. You wrote all the sums down, knowing your expenditure and profits. The latter were very considerable."

"And by whom is it alleged that I am a dealer in base money, pray?"

"It is not necessary for us to disclose the name of our informant," was the stiff rejoinder.

"But surely I am not to be thus denounced by an anonymous enemy?" he cried. "This is not the justice which every Frenchman claims as his birthright!"

"You have demanded to know the charges laid against you, and I have detailed them," replied the chief of the Surete, regarding the prisoner closely through his gold pince-nez.

"They are false--every word of them," promptly returned Le Pontois. "I have no acquaintance with any banknote forger. If I had, he would quickly find himself under arrest."

The four men seated in his vicinity smiled grimly. They had expected the prisoner to declare his innocence.

"I may tell you that the information here"--and Bezard tapped the _dossier_ before him--"is from a source in which we have the most complete and implicit confidence. For the past few months there have been suspicions that forged English notes have been put into circulation in France. Therefore I ordered a vigilant watch to be maintained. Monsieur Pierrepont, here, has been in command of a squadron of confidential agents."

"And they have watched me, and, I suppose, have manufactured evidence against me! It is only what may be expected of men paid to spy upon us.

If I am a forger or a friend of forgers, as you allege me to be, then I am unworthy to have served in the uniform of France. But I tell you that the allegations you have just read are lies--lies, every word of them."

And Le Pontois' pale cheeks flushed crimson with anger.

"Le Pontois," remarked a tall, thin, elderly commissaire who was present, "it is for you to prove your innocence. The information laid before us is derived from those who have daily watched your movements and reported them. If you can prove to us that it is false, then your innocence may be established."

"But I _am_ innocent!" he protested, "therefore I have no fear what charges may be laid against me. They cannot be substantiated. The whole string of allegations is utterly ridiculous!"

"Eh bien! Then let us commence with the first," exclaimed Bezard, again referring to the file of secret reports before him. "On Wednesday, the fourteenth day of January, you went to Commercy, where, at the Cafe de la Cloche, you met a certain Belgian who pa.s.sed under the name of Laloux."

"I recollect!" cried Le Pontois quickly. "I sold him a horse. He was a dealer."

"A dealer in forged notes," remarked one of the officials, with a faint smile.

"Was he a forger, then?" asked Le Pontois in entire surprise.

"Yes. He has entered France several times in the guise of a horsedealer,"

Pierrepont interrupted.

"But I only bought a horse of him," declared the prisoner vehemently.

"And you paid for it in English notes, apologising that you had no other money. He took them, for he pa.s.sed them in Belgium into an English bank in Brussels. They were forged!"

"Again, on the sixteenth of May, you met the man Laloux at the same place," said Bezard.

"He had a mare to sell--I tried to buy it for my wife to drive, but he wanted too much."

"You remained the night at the Hotel de Paris, and saw him again at nine o'clock next morning."

"True. I hoped to strike a bargain with him in the morning, but we could not come to terms."

"Regarding the forged English notes you were prepared to sell, eh?"

snapped Bezard, with a look of disbelief.

"I had nothing to sell!" protested Le Pontois, drawing himself up. "Those who have spied upon me have told untruths."

"But the individual, Laloux, was watched. One of our agents followed him to Brussels, where he went next day to the English bank in the Montagne de la Cour."

"Not with forged notes from me. My dealings with him were in every way honest business transactions."

"You mean that you received money from him, eh?"

"I do not deny that. I sold him a horse on the first occasion. He paid me seven hundred francs for it, and I afterwards purchased one from him."

"So you do not deny that you received money from that man?"

"Why should I? I sold him a horse, and he paid me for it."

"Very well," said Bezard, with some hesitation. "Let us pa.s.s to the eighth of April. At six o'clock that morning you drove to Thillot-sous-les-Cotes, where you met a stranger at the entrance to the village, and walked with him, and held a long and earnest conversation."

Paul was silent for a moment. The incident recalled was one that he would fain have forgotten, one the truth of which he intended at all hazards to conceal.

"I admit that I went to Thillot in secret," he answered in a changed voice.

"Ah! Then you do not deny that you were attracted by the promises of substantial payment for certain forged English notes which you could furnish, eh?" grunted Bezard in satisfaction.

"I admit going to Thillot, but I deny your allegation," cried Paul in quick protest.

"Then perhaps you will tell us the reason you took that early drive?"

asked a commissaire, with a short, hard laugh of disbelief.

The prisoner hesitated. It was a purely personal matter, one which concerned himself alone.

"I regret, messieurs," was his slow reply, "I regret that I am unable--indeed, I am not permitted to answer that question."

"Pray why?" inquired Bezard.

"Well--because it concerns a woman's honour," was the low, hoa.r.s.e reply, "the honour of the wife of a certain officer."

At those words of his the men interrogating him laughed in derision, declaring it to be a very elegant excuse.

"It is no excuse!" he cried fiercely, again rising from his chair. "When I have obtained permission to speak, messieurs, I will tell you the truth. Until then I shall remain silent."

"Eh, bien!" snapped Bezard. "And so we will pa.s.s to the next and final charge--that you prepared a statement in order to satisfy yourself regarding the profits of your dealings in these spurious notes."

"I have no knowledge of such a thing!" Paul replied instantly.

"And yet for several weeks past a mysterious friend of yours has been seen in the neighbourhood of your chateau. He has been staying in Commercy and in Longuyon. I gave orders for his arrest, but, with his usual cleverness, he escaped from Commercy."

"I prepared no statement."

"H'm!" grunted Bezard, looking straight into his flushed face. "You are quite certain of that?"