"The law has seized all the property which was in that house, and I am under the painful necessity, madam," continued he, "of arresting you, as being a party concerned in a serious robbery. Allow me to take charge of this article, which otherwise you might make away with." Thus saying, the officer drew the diamond ring from the finger of the lady, though not without some resistance on her part.
The clock of the Palais de Justice was striking midnight, as the carriage drove up to the gate. The night was pitch dark.
"We must ring up the concierge to open the gate," observed the commissary to the sergent-de-ville; at the same time they both got out, and shut the door of the carriage with assiduous care.
Two minutes had scarcely elapsed, when a loud voice exclaimed, "You cannot remain opposite this gate, coachman."
"I know that," replied that individual, "but I am waiting for orders. You have not told me where to drive to, Ma'am," added he, putting down one of the glasses. "Where am I to drive you to?"
"Where are you to drive me? To the Rue Cadet, where you took me up," said the fair occupant of the carriage, in a tremulous voice.
"Go along, my hearties," exclaimed the Jehu, whipping up his horses, "this is my last fare to-night."
If my readers have not already guessed as much, I will mention for their edification, that the commissary of police and his assistant, were neither more nor less than two of Béroli's friends; and that, instead of ringing up the concierge, as they had stated, favoured by the darkness of the night, they made off, as quickly as they could, carrying the precious ring, which they soon afterwards delivered into the hands of Béroli.