The Man in Grey | Page 8

said
testily:
"You have something you wish to say to me, my good Monsieur
Vimars?"
"Yes, Monsieur le Procureur," hazarded the préfet in reply, "that is --
there is the matter of the burglary -- and -- and the murder last night --
that is ----"
M. le Procureur frowned: "Those are local matters," he said loftily,
"which concern the commissary of police, my good Vimars, and are
beneath the notice of Monsieur le Ministre's secret agent."
The préfet, conscious of a reprimand, blushed to the very roots of his
scanty hair. He rose with some haste and the obvious desire to conceal
his discomfiture in a precipitate retreat, when the Man in Grey
interposed in his quiet, even monotone:
"Nothing is beneath the notice of a secret agent, Monsieur le
Procureur," he said; "and everything which is within the province of the
commissary of police concerns the representative of the Minister."
M. Vimars literally gasped at this presumption. How anyone dared thus
to run counter to M. le Procureur's orders simply passed his
comprehension. He looked with positive horror on the meagre,
insignificant personage who even now was meeting M. le Procureur's
haughty, supercilious glance without any sign of contrition or of shame.
M. de Saint-Tropèze had raised his aristocratic eyebrows, and tried to
wither the audacious malapert with his scornful glance, but the little
Man in Grey appeared quite unconscious of the enormity of his offence;
he stood by -- as was his wont -- quietly and silently, his eyes fixed

inquiringly on the préfet, who was indeed hoping that the floor would
open conveniently and swallow him up ere he was called upon to
decide whether he should obey the orders of his official chief, or pay
heed to the commands of the accredited agent of M. the Minister of
Police.
But M. le Procureur decided the question himself and in the only way
possible. The Minister's letter with its peremptory commands lay there
before him -- the secret agent of His Majesty's Police was to be aided
and obeyed implicitly in all matters relating to his work; there was
nothing to be done save to comply with those orders as graciously as he
could, and without further loss of dignity.
"You have heard the wishes of Monsieur le Ministre's agent, my good
Vimars," he said coldly; "so I pray you speak to him of the matter
which exercises your mind, for of a truth I am not well acquainted with
all the details!"
Whereupon he fell to contemplating the exquisite polish on his
almond-shaped nails. Though the overbearing little upstart in the grey
coat could command the obsequiousness of such men as that fool
Vimars, he must be shown at the outset that his insolence would find no
weak spot in the armour of M. de Saint-Tropèze's lofty self-respect.
"Oh! it is very obvious," quoth the préfet, whose only desire was to
conciliate both parties, "that the matter is not one which affects the
graver question of those satané Chouans. At the same time both the
affairs of last night are certainly mysterious and present some unusual
features which have greatly puzzled our exceedingly able commissary
of police. It seems that in the early hours of this morning the library of
Monseigneur the Constitutional Bishop of Alençon was broken into by
thieves. Fortunately nothing of any value was stolen, and this part of
the affair appeared simple enough, until an hour or two later a couple of
peasants, who were walking from Lonrai towards the city, came across
the body of a man lying face upwards by the roadside. The man was
quite dead -- had been dead some time apparently. The two louts
hurried at once to the commissariat of police and made their
depositions. Monsieur Lefèvre, our chief commissary, proceeded to the

scene of the crime; he has now the affair in hand."
The préfet had perforce to pause in his narrative for lack of breath. He
had been talking volubly and uninterruptedly, and indeed he had no
cause to complain of lack of attention on the part of his hearer. M. le
Ministre's secret agent sat absolutely still, his deep-set eyes fixed
intently upon the narrator. Alone M. le Procureur Impérial maintained
his attitude of calm disdain. He still appeared deeply absorbed in the
contemplation of his finger-nails.
"At first," resumed the préfet after his dramatic pause, "these two
crimes, the greater and the less, seemed in no way connected, and
personally I am not sure even now that they are. A certain air of
similarity and mystery, however, clings to them both, for in both cases
the crimes appear at the outset so very purposeless. In the case of the
burglary in Monseigneur's palace the thieves were obviously scared
before they could lay hands