of the journey to his superiors, and under the law--to us. Where is the
porter? In custody?"

"Surely, sir, but there is something wrong with him."

"So I should think! Nothing of this kind could well occur without his
knowledge. If he was doing his duty--unless, of course, he--but let us
avoid hasty conjectures."

"He has also lost the passengers' tickets, which you know he retains
till the end of the journey. After the catastrophe, however, he was
unable to lay his hand upon his pocket-book. It contained all his
papers."

"Worse and worse. There is something behind all this. Take me to him.
Stay, can I have a private room close to the other--where the prisoners,
those held on suspicion, are? It will be necessary to hold
investigations, take their depositions. M. le Juge will be here
directly."

M. Floçon was soon installed in a room actually communicating with the
waiting-room, and as a preliminary of the first importance, taking
precedence even of the examination of the sleeping-car, he ordered the
porter to be brought in to answer certain questions.

The man, Ludwig Groote, as he presently gave his name, thirty-two years
of age, born at Amsterdam, looked such a sluggish, slouching,
blear-eyed creature that M. Floçon began by a sharp rebuke.

"Now. Sharp! Are you always like this?" cried the Chief.