“I certainly do!... So do all your readers, monsieur. Is that not so?”

But, whilst Monsieur Barbey was regarding Fandor with some astonishment because of his half-avowal, that he himself was not sure of Dollon’s guilt, the door was flung open with violence, and Monsieur Nanteuil, out of breath, looking thoroughly upset, rushed into the room, followed by five or six men unknown to Jérôme Fandor, showing traces of fatigue and emotion also.

“Good heavens! What is it?” cried Monsieur Barbey, rising to meet his partner.

“The matter is,” cried Monsieur Nanteuil, “that an abominable robbery has just been committed....”

“Where?”

“Rue du Quatre Septembre!” Still panting, he began to give details...

Fandor did not wait to hear more. He rushed from the Barbey-Nanteuil bank and made for the place de l’Opéra at top speed.

In consequence of the extraordinary event which Monsieur Nanteuil had hastened to report to his partner, a considerable crowd had flocked to the scene of the accident; but barriers had been quickly erected, and the crowd, directed by the police, were obliged to circulate in orderly fashion when Fandor arrived on the scene.

The agile young journalist had made his way to the front row of the curious onlookers, and was bent on entering the stone and wood yards of the works forbidden to the public : the usual palisade no longer existed owing to the landslide.

Just as he was searching in his pocket for the precious identification card, which the police grant to the reporters connected with the big newspapers, Fandor was jostled by an individual coming out of the yards. It was a navvy all covered with mortar, white dust, and mud; he was without a hat and held his right hand pressed against his cheek; between his fingers there filtered a few drops of blood. The glances of the man and the journalist met, and Fandor felt as though someone had struck him a blow on the heart! The navvy had given him so strange a look. Fandor thought he had read in his eyes a threat and an invitation.

Whilst the journalist hesitated, troubled by this sudden encounter, the man moved off, forcing his way through the crowd. Then Fandor caught sight of some of his colleagues, stumbling about amidst the ruins and rubble in the stone-yard. This reassured him; if he followed the navvy, and he had the strongest inclination to do so, he could telephone to some reporter friend who would supply him with the necessary details for his article on the accident. He had got some facts already: a sudden collapse of stones and mortar had buried a handcart, in which were large bars of gold belonging to the Barbey-Nanteuil bank. But the precious vehicle had soon been rescued, and they were taking it to the bank under escort.

Satisfied as to this, Fandor followed with his eyes this strange navvy, who was going farther and farther away.