He was asked for his customers' names, and after a few days the search began, guided by a list so exact that useless steps were spared.
One morning a detective reached the Avenue de Clichy, and found the tailor Valerius in his shop, reading a newspaper. For it was not only when the country was in danger that Valerius had a passion for reading papers, but every morning and evening.
Nothing that was published in the papers escaped him, and at the first words of the agent he understood immediately about what he was to be questioned.
"It is concerning the affair in the Rue Sainte-Anne that you wish this information?" he said.
"Frankly, yes."
"Well, frankly also, I do not know if the secrets of the profession permit me to answer you."
The agent, who was by no means stupid, immediately understood the man's character, and instead of yielding to the desire to laugh, caused by this reply honestly made by this good-natured man, whose long, black, bushy beard and bald head accentuated his gravity, he yielded to the necessity of the occasion.
"That is a question to discuss."
"Then let us discuss it. A customer, confiding in my honesty and discretion, gives me an order to make a pair of trousers; he pays me as he agreed, without beating me down, and on the day he promised. We are loyal to each other. I give him a pair of good trousers, honestly made, and he pays me with good money. We are even. Have I the right afterward, by imprudent words, or otherwise, to furnish clews against him? The case is a delicate one."
"Do you place the interest of the individual above that of society?"