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Updated: July 2, 2025
"Well, Monsieur Groslier?" said the sub-prefect, taking the commissary a little apart from his three colleagues. "Monsieur," said the commissary of police in a low voice, "Monsieur la prefet has sent me to tell you some sad news; Monsieur le Vicomte Charles Keller is dead.
When I want to know who he is, I shall send the corporal or Monsieur Groslier to ask him for his passport." There is no little town in France where, at a given time, the drama or the comedy of the stranger is not played. Often the stranger is an adventurer who makes dupes and departs, carrying with him the reputation of a woman, or the money of a family.
The rules of the police are strict, and Monsieur Groslier doesn't trifle, like some commissaries of police." "Innkeepers are never to blame about election-time," remarked the little tiger, getting off his horse. "I'll repeat that to Vinet," thought the sub-prefect. "Go and ask your master if he can receive the sub-prefect of Arcis." Presently Paradise returned.
"Madame Beauvisage," continued Vinet, "wished to speak with the woman herself, and she ordered Groslier that's the commissary of police to fetch her with a threatening air to the mayor's office, so as to give her an idea that the authorities disapproved of her conduct." "Did Madame Beauvisage concoct that plan?" asked Rastignac. "Yes," replied Maxime, "she is a very clever woman."
These four individuals had now reached, walking slowly, the spot where the avenue ceases and becomes an open square. "There's Monsieur Groslier," said the judge, catching sight of a man on horseback. This was the commissary of police; he saw the government of Arcis collected on the public square, and he rode up to the four gentlemen.
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