For some months Dessaure was left to serve his sentence in peace, the detectives believing that a taste of prison life might have a salutary effect on him, or at least induce him to confess where the stolen jewels were. True, no promises could be made to him, but at the same time it certainly would not add to his sentence should he divulge the hiding-place of the Baroness de Martigny's jewels. Detective Brissard had several long talks with the convict, but they all ended in the same way, Dessaure saying, "I will serve my sentence and then enjoy what I have earned; you will not catch me a second time."
Spite of this uncompromising attitude the detective worked assiduously, doing his utmost to locate the jewels, the hiding-place of which one man alone knew. Finally, however, M. Brissard was obliged to consider the case closed, for the time being, and gave his attention to other matters.
So time went on, until Dessaure had but a few months more to serve. Then one day he wrote a letter, in which he asked the person to whom it was addressed, for old times' sake, to supply him with a new suit of clothes and other articles of wearing apparel, saying he would repay the kindness a hundredfold. This letter came back to the prison, the addressee—Mlle. Morant, daughter of the brasserie keeper—having removed several years back. This upset Dessaure greatly, and he asked and received permission to write another letter, which was addressed to the girl's father. Again the letter came back, marked as before. Dessaure's excitement was now great; he cursed and cried in turn. The warders reported that he did not sleep at night, and ate scarcely any food.
At last came the morning of his release. The liberated man left the prison almost a wreck from mental anguish. He was met at the gates by an aged aunt, who gave him a few francs and took him home with her to her house in the environs of Paris. Dessaure could not be induced to eat, and he would not sit down quietly, but walked about the small house, gazing continually out of the window. No sooner was it dark than he left the place, looked quickly about him, then hurried to the nearest point whence he could get an omnibus cityward. Mounting to the top of the vehicle, he looked about him every few moments to see if he was being followed. He left the bus at the Madeleine; then, cutting through the back streets, made his way to the Rue de Mesrominil. He walked on the right-hand side of the street until he came to the place where the brasserie of M. Morant had been located. Yes, there was still a business of the same kind there, but the place had changed hands.
Dessaure crossed the street and entered the little wine-shop, the floors above which were rented out to lodgers, as formerly. In the basement was a long room used as a dining-room for the guests of the house; behind this was a kitchen, and to the left, at the end of a short passage, a small yard which was used to store empty casks and bottles. Dessaure called for a drink and ordered some food; then, as though an old customer thoroughly familiar with the place, he deliberately went down into the basement. The cook had received Dessaure's order, and the latter stood in the doorway chatting to her. After a moment or two he slowly walked through the passage and stood in the yard whistling. The cook was busy getting his meal ready and offered no objection to his proceedings. One stealthy backward glance, and Dessaure swiftly crossed the yard. Taking a short iron bar, flattened at one end, from his pocket, he pushed it deeply into the ground exactly in the corner of the yard, next a brick wall. Again and again he did this; then, in a frenzy, he tore up the earth to a depth of two feet, but nothing rewarded his efforts. Jumping to his feet, shaking with rage, he shrieked out, "All for nothing! All for nothing!" Then, like a wild man, he rushed up the steps and out of the place, knocking over a waiter in his headlong flight.
The half-crazed man made his way to the Seine embankment, where he walked up and down, trying in vain to think calmly. When he left the Baroness de Martigny's house with the stolen jewel-case he had made direct for the brasserie in the Rue de Mesrominil, in accordance with a plan he had thought out. He hid the jewel-case as much as possible under his long servant's coat, and, after having a drink, went down into the yard described and buried the jewels with the aid of a shovel he had previously placed there in readiness. Then, covering the case over, he stamped the ground down solidly, threw some earth and stones on the spot, and returned upstairs. Dessaure, however, as transpired later, had not taken the precaution to ascertain whether anyone was watching him from the windows overlooking the yard. It was obvious to him now that someone must have seen him bury the gems, or else have discovered them subsequently. And now they were for ever lost to him! Covering his face with his hands, the heart-broken man repeated to himself the words, "All for nothing! All for nothing!" Suddenly he pulled himself together, and, walking toward the embankment balustrade, stood there for a moment gazing hesitatingly into the waters of the Seine. Then a hand was placed on his shoulder, and a voice said:—
"Don't do it, Dessaure! Life is all too short in any case."
The startled man wheeled round, to behold Detective Brissard at his elbow! Dessaure was about to speak, when the officer anticipated him.
"I have watched you ever since your release this morning," he said. "Come, don't be a fool. We will go to my place and have a talk."