Duret, the commissary, caused the door to be broken open, and perceived a woman, whose back was turned towards him. This woman, possessed of an abundance of black hair, or rather with an enormous chignon attached to the summit of her head, was dressed in a black skirt and dressing-jacket.
"You are Paschal Grousset," cried the agent of police, seizing the woman by the arm and forcing her to terms.
Grousset, for it was he, did not attempt either to deny his identity or to make the slightest resistance; he avowed his name, declaring himself a journalist and member of the Commune.
He then asked permission to resume his masculine garments, which was granted, and a search was immediately commenced in the apartment.
Grousset remained perfectly impassible, flattering himself that no one had ever laid hands on his papers, and that it would be the case always; but when the order was given to search the canopy of the bed, he grew pale.
"You've got the hiding-place," he cried.
An enormous quantity of documents was in fact found, the study of which will probably be very interesting for the history of the foreign relations of the Commune.
After a short interrogatory, Grousset was conducted to the Mairie of the 9th Arrondissement. He asked permission to smoke a cigarette—a pleasure of which he had been deprived for ten days during which he had been disguised as a woman.
It was in fact from the 23d of May that all news of him had ceased, and he had probably taken refuge as early as that day with Miss Hacard.
Hardly had Grousset arrived at the Mairie Drouot when he was recognized and immediately saluted with cries of "A mort, l'assassin! à mort, l'incindiare! let him go on foot!" etc.
