IV
At the same hour that Mme. Nina Gypsy was seeking refuge at the Archangel, so highly recommended by Fanferlot the Squirrel, Prosper Bertomy was being entered on the jailer’s book at the police office.
Since the moment when he had resumed his habitual composure, he had not faltered.
Vainly did the people around him watch for a suspicious expression, or any sign of giving way under the danger of his situation.
His face was like marble.
One would have supposed him insensible to the horrors of his condition, had not his heavy breathing, and the beads of perspiration standing on his brow, betrayed the intense agony he was suffering.
At the police office, where he had to wait two hours while the commissary went to receive orders from higher authorities, he entered into conversation with the two bailiffs who had charge of him.
At twelve o’clock he said he was hungry, and sent to a restaurant near by for his breakfast, which he ate with a good appetite; he also drank nearly a bottle of wine.
While he was thus occupied, several clerks from the prefecture, who have to transact business daily with the commissary of police, curiously watched him. They all formed the same opinion, and admiringly said to each other:
“Well, he is made of strong material, he is!”