Charles Crochard, who was a handsome fellow, was said to have the run of it--" "Yes, yes," cried Cerizet, "I remember Mademoiselle Beaumesnil's embarrassment when she gave her testimony--and also the total extinction of voice that attacked her when the judge asked her age." "The robbery," continued du Portail, "was audaciously committed in the daytime; and no sooner did Charles Crochard get possession of the casket than he went to the church of Saint-Sulpice, where he had an appointment with an accomplice, who, being supplied with a passport, was to start immediately with the diamonds for foreign parts.

It so chanced that on entering the church, instead of meeting the man he expected, who was a trifle late, Charles Crochard came face to face with a celebrated agent of the detective force, who was well known to him, inasmuch as the young rascal was not at his first scrimmage with the police.

The absence of his accomplice, this encounter with the detective, and, lastly, a rapid movement made by the latter, by the merest chance, toward the door, induced the robber to fancy he was being watched.

Losing his head under this idea, he wanted, at any cost, to put the casket out of his possession, knowing that if arrested, as he expected, at the door of the church, it would be a damning proof against him.

Catching sight at that moment of Toupillier, who was then the giver of holy water, 'My man,' said he, making sure that no one overheard their colloquy, 'will you take care of this little package for me?
It is a box of lace.