The Teeth of the Tiger

  CHAPTER THREE

  A MAN DOOMED

  The door was opened by a manservant. Mazeroux sent in his card.

  Hippolyte received the two visitors in his study. The table, on whichstood a movable telephone, was littered with books, pamphlets, andpapers. There were two tall desks, with diagrams and drawings, and someglass cases containing reduced models, in ivory and steel, of apparatusconstructed or invented by the engineer.

  A large sofa stood against the wall. In one corner was a windingstaircase that led to a circular gallery. An electric chandelier hungfrom the ceiling.

  Mazeroux, after stating his quality and introducing his friend Perennaas also sent by the Prefect of Police, at once expounded the object oftheir visit.

  M. Desmalions, he said, was feeling anxious on the score of very seriousindications which he had just received and, without waiting for the nextday's interview, begged M. Fauville to take all the precautions which hisdetectives might advise.

  Fauville at first displayed a certain ill humour.

  "My precautions are taken, gentlemen, and well taken. And, on the otherhand, I am afraid that your interference may do harm."

  "In what way?"

  "By arousing the attention of my enemies and preventing me, for thatreason, from collecting proofs which I need in order to confound them."

  "Can you explain--?"

  "No, I cannot ... To-morrow, to-morrow morning--not before."

  "And if it's too late?" Don Luis interjected.

  "Too late? To-morrow?"

  "Inspector Verot told M. Desmalions's secretary that the two murderswould take place to-night. He said it was fatal and irrevocable."

  "To-night?" cried Fauville angrily. "I tell you no! Not to-night.I'm sure of that. There are things which I know, aren't there, whichyou do not?"

  "Yes," retorted Don Luis, "but there may also be things which InspectorVerot knew and which you don't know. He had perhaps learned more of yourenemies' secrets than you did. The proof is that he was suspected, that aman carrying an ebony walking-stick was seen watching his movements,that, lastly, he was killed."

  Hippolyte Fauville's self-assurance decreased. Perenna took advantage ofthis to insist; and he insisted to such good purpose that Fauville,though without withdrawing from his reserve, ended by yielding before awill that was stronger than his own.

  "Well, but you surely don't intend to spend the night in here?"

  "We do indeed."

  "Why, it's ridiculous! It's sheer waste of time! After all, looking atthings from the worst--And what do you want besides?"

  "Who lives in the house?"

  "Who? My wife, to begin with. She has the first floor."

  "Mme. Fauville is not threatened?"

  "No, not at all. It's I who am threatened with death; I and my sonEdmond. That is why, for the past week, instead of sleeping in my regularbedroom, I have locked myself up in this room. I have given my work as apretext; a quantity of writing which keeps me up very late and for whichI need my son's assistance."

  "Does he sleep here, then?"

  "He sleeps above us, in a little room which I have had arranged for him.The only access to it is by this inner staircase."

  "Is he there now?"

  "Yes, he's asleep."

  "How old is he?"

  "Sixteen."

  "But the fact that you have changed your room shows that you feared someone would attack you. Whom had you in mind? An enemy living in the house?One of your servants? Or people from the outside? In that case, how couldthey get in? The whole question lies in that."

  "To-morrow, to-morrow," replied Fauville, obstinately. "I will explaineverything to-morrow--"

  "Why not to-night?" Perenna persisted.

  "Because I want proofs, I tell you; because the mere fact of my talkingmay have terrible consequences--and I am frightened; yes, I'mfrightened--"

  He was trembling, in fact, and looked so wretched and terrified that DonLuis insisted no longer.

  "Very well," he said, "I will only ask your permission, for my comradeand myself, to spend the night where we can hear you if you call."

  "As you please, Monsieur. Perhaps, after all, that will be best."

  At that moment one of the servants knocked and came in to say that hismistress wished to see the master before she went out. Madame Fauvilleentered almost immediately. She bowed pleasantly as Perenna and Mazerouxrose from their chairs.

  She was a woman between thirty and thirty-five, a woman of a bright andsmiling beauty, which she owed to her blue eyes, to her wavy hair, to allthe charm of her rather vapid but amiable and very pretty face. She worea long, figured-silk cloak over an evening dress that showed her fineshoulders.

  Her husband said, in surprise

  "Are you going out to-night?"

  "You forget," she said. "The Auverards offered me a seat in their box atthe opera; and you yourself asked me to look in at Mme. d'Ersingen'sparty afterward--"

  "So I did, so I did," he said. "It escaped my memory; I am working sohard."

  She finished buttoning her gloves and asked:

  "Won't you come and fetch me at Mme. d'Ersingen's?"

  "What for?"

  "They would like it."

  "But I shouldn't. Besides, I don't feel well enough."

  "Then I'll make your apologies for you."

  "Yes, do."

  She drew her cloak around her with a graceful gesture, and stood for afew moments, without moving, as though seeking a word of farewell.Then she said:

  "Edmond's not here! I thought he was working with you?"

  "He was feeling tired."

  "Is he asleep?"

  "Yes."

  "I wanted to kiss him good-night."

  "No, you would only wake him. And here's your car; so go, dear. Amuseyourself."

  "Oh, amuse myself!" she said. "There's not much amusement about the operaand an evening party."

  "Still, it's better than keeping one's room."

  There was some little constraint. It was obviously one of thoseill-assorted households in which the husband, suffering in health and notcaring for the pleasures of society, stays at home, while the wife seeksthe enjoyments to which her age and habits entitle her.

  As he said nothing more, she bent over and kissed him on the forehead.Then, once more bowing to the two visitors, she went out. A moment laterthey heard the sound of the motor driving away.

  Hippolyte Fauville at once rose and rang the bell. Then he said:

  "No one here has any idea of the danger hanging over me. I have confidedin nobody, not even in Silvestre, my own man, though he has been in myservice for years and is honesty itself."

  The manservant entered.

  "I am going to bed, Silvestre," said M. Fauville. "Get everything ready."

  Silvestre opened the upper part of the great sofa, which made acomfortable bed, and laid the sheets and blankets. Next, at his master'sorders, he brought a jug of water, a glass, a plate of biscuits, and adish of fruit.

  M. Fauville ate a couple of biscuits and then cut a dessert-apple. It wasnot ripe. He took two others, felt them, and, not thinking them good, putthem back as well. Then he peeled a pear and ate it.

  "You can leave the fruit dish," he said to his man. "I shall be glad ofit, if I am hungry during the night.... Oh, I was forgetting! These twogentlemen are staying. Don't mention it to anybody. And, in the morning,don't come until I ring."

  The man placed the fruit dish on the table before retiring. Perenna, whowas noticing everything, and who was afterward to remember every smallestdetail of that evening, which his memory recorded with a sort ofmechanical faithfulness, counted three pears and four apples in the dish.

  Meanwhile, Fauville went up the winding staircase, and, going along thegallery, reached the room where his son lay in bed.

  "He's fast asleep," he said to Perenna, who had joined him.

  The bedroom was a small one. The air was admitted by a special system ofventilation, for the dormer window was hermetic
ally closed by a woodenshutter tightly nailed down.

  "I took the precaution last year," Hippolyte Fauville explained. "I usedto make my electrical experiments in this room and was afraid of beingspied upon, so I closed the aperture opening on the roof."

  And he added in a low voice:

  "They have been prowling around me for a long time."

  The two men went downstairs again.

  Fauville looked at his watch.

  "A quarter past ten: bedtime, I am exceedingly tired, and you willexcuse me--"

  It was arranged that Perenna and Mazeroux should make themselvescomfortable in a couple of easy chairs which they carried into thepassage between the study and the entrance hall. But, before bidding themgood-night, Hippolyte Fauville, who, although greatly excited, hadappeared until then to retain his self-control, was seized with a suddenattack of weakness. He uttered a faint cry. Don Luis turned round and sawthe sweat pouring like gleaming water down his face and neck, while heshook with fever and anguish.

  "What's the matter?" asked Perenna.

  "I'm frightened! I'm frightened!" he said.

  "This is madness!" cried Don Luis. "Aren't we here, the two of us? We caneasily spend the night with you, if you prefer, by your bedside."

  Fauville replied by shaking Perenna violently by the shoulder, and, withdistorted features, stammering:

  "If there were ten of you--if there were twenty of you with me, you neednot think that it would spoil their schemes! They can do anything theyplease, do you hear, anything! They have already killed InspectorVerot--they will kill me--and they will kill my son. Oh, the blackguards!My God, take pity on me! The awful terror of it! The pain I suffer!"

  He had fallen on his knees and was striking his breast and repeating:

  "O God, have pity on me! I can't die! I can't let my son die! Have pityon me, I beseech Thee!"

  He sprang to his feet and led Perenna to a glass-fronted case, whichhe rolled back on its brass castors, revealing a small safe builtinto the wall.

  "You will find my whole story here, written up day by day for the pastthree years. If anything should happen to me, revenge will be easy."

  He hurriedly turned the letters of the padlock and, with a key which hetook from his pocket, opened the safe.

  It was three fourths empty; but on one of the shelves, between some pilesof papers, was a diary bound in drab cloth, with a rubber band round it.He took the diary, and, emphasizing his words, said:

  "There, look, it's all in here. With this, the hideous business canbe reconstructed.... There are my suspicions first and then mycertainties.... Everything, everything ... how to trap them and howto do for them.... You'll remember, won't you? A diary bound in drabcloth.... I'm putting it back in the safe."

  Gradually his calmness returned. He pushed back the glass case, tidied afew papers, switched on the electric lamp above his bed, put out thelights in the middle of the ceiling, and asked Don Luis and Mazeroux toleave him.

  Don Luis, who was walking round the room and examining the iron shuttersof the two windows, noticed a door opposite the entrance door and askedthe engineer about it.

  "I use it for my regular clients," said Fauville, "and sometimes I go outthat way."

  "Does it open on the garden?"

  "Yes."

  "Is it properly closed?"

  "You can see for yourself; it's locked and bolted with a safety bolt.Both keys are on my bunch; so is the key of the garden gate."

  He placed the bunch of keys on the table with his pocket-book and, afterfirst winding it, his watch.

  Don Luis, without troubling to ask permission, took the keys andunfastened the lock and the bolt. A flight of three steps brought him tothe garden. He followed the length of the narrow border. Through the ivyhe saw and heard the two policemen pacing up and down the boulevard. Hetried the lock of the gate. It was fastened.

  "Everything's all right," he said when he returned, "and you can be easy.Good-night."

  "Good-night," said the engineer, seeing Perenna and Mazeroux out.

  Between his study and the passage were two doors, one of which was paddedand covered with oilcloth. On the other side, the passage was separatedfrom the hall by a heavy curtain.

  "You can go to sleep," said Perenna to his companion. "I'll sit up."

  "But surely, Chief, you don't think that anything's going to happen!"

  "I don't think so, seeing the precautions which we've taken. But,knowing Inspector Verot as you did, do you think he was the man toimagine things?"

  "No, Chief."

  "Well, you know what he prophesied. That means that he had his reasonsfor doing so. And therefore I shall keep my eyes open."

  "We'll take it in turns, Chief; wake me when it's my time to watch."

  Seated motionlessly, side by side, they exchanged an occasional remark.Soon after, Mazeroux fell asleep. Don Luis remained in his chair withoutmoving, his ears pricked up. Everything was quiet in the house. Outside,from time to time, the sound of a motor car or of a cab rolled by. Hecould also hear the late trains on the Auteuil line.

  He rose several times and went up to the door. Not a sound. HippolyteFauville was evidently asleep.

  "Capital!" said Perenna to himself. "The boulevard is watched. No one canenter the room except by this way. So there is nothing to fear."

  At two o'clock in the morning a car stopped outside the house, and one ofthe manservants, who must have been waiting in the kitchen, hastened tothe front door. Perenna switched off the light in the passage, and,drawing the curtain slightly aside, saw Mme. Fauville enter, followed bySilvestre.

  She went up. The lights on the staircase were put out. For half an houror so there was a sound overhead of voices and of chairs moving. Then allwas silence.

  And, amid this silence, Perenna felt an unspeakable anguish arise withinhim, he could not tell why. But it was so violent, the impression becameso acute, that he muttered:

  "I shall go and see if he's asleep. I don't expect that he has boltedthe doors."

  He had only to push both doors to open them; and, with his electriclantern in his hand, he went up to the bed. Hippolyte Fauville wassleeping with his face turned to the wall.

  Perenna gave a smile of relief. He returned to the passage and,shaking Mazeroux:

  "Your turn, Alexandre."

  "No news, Chief?"

  "No, none; he's asleep."

  "How do you know?"

  "I've had a look at him."

  "That's funny; I never heard you. It's true, though, I've sleptlike a pig."

  He followed Perenna into the study, and Perenna said:

  "Sit down and don't wake him. I shall take forty winks."

  He had one more turn at sentry duty. But, even while dozing, he remainedconscious of all that happened around him. A clock struck the hours witha low chime; and each time Perenna counted the strokes. Then came thelife outside awakening, the rattle of the milk-carts, the whistle of theearly suburban trains.

  People began to stir inside the house. The daylight trickled inthrough the crannies of the shutters, and the room gradually becamefilled with light.

  "Let's go away," said Sergeant Mazeroux. "It would be better for him notto find us here."

  "Hold your tongue!" said Don Luis, with an imperious gesture.

  "Why?"

  "You'll wake him up."

  "But you can see I'm not waking him," said Mazeroux, withoutlowering his tone.

  "That's true, that's true," whispered Don Luis, astonished that the soundof that voice had not disturbed the sleeper.

  And he felt himself overcome with the same anguish that had seized uponhim in the middle of the night, a more clearly defined anguish, althoughhe would not, although he dared not, try to realize the reason of it.

  "What's the matter with you, Chief? You're looking like nothing on earth.What is it?"

  "Nothing--nothing. I'm frightened--"

  Mazeroux shuddered.

  "Frightened of what? You say that just as he did last
night."

  "Yes ... yes ... and for the same reason."

  "But--?"

  "Don't you understand? Don't you understand that I'm wondering--?"

  "No; what?"

  "If he's not dead!"

  "But you're mad, Chief!"

  "No.... I don't know.... Only, only ... I have an impression of death--"

  Lantern in hand, he stood as one paralyzed, opposite the bed; and hewho was afraid of nothing in the world had not the courage to throw thelight on Hippolyte Fauville's face. A terrifying silence rose andfilled the room.

  "Oh, Chief, he's not moving!"

  "I know ... I know ... and I now see that he has not moved once duringthe night. And that's what frightens me."

  He had to make a real effort in order to step forward. He was now almosttouching the bed.

  The engineer did not appear to breathe.

  This time, Perenna resolutely took hold of his hand.

  It was icy cold.

  Don Luis at once recovered all his self-possession.

  "The window! Open the window!" he cried.

  And, when the light flooded the room, he saw the face of HippolyteFauville all swollen, stained with brown patches.

  "Oh," he said, under his breath, "he's dead!"

  "Dash it all! Dash it all!" spluttered the detective sergeant.

  For two or three minutes they stood petrified, stupefied, staggered atthe sight of this most astonishing and mysterious phenomenon. Then asudden idea made Perenna start. He flew up the winding staircase, rushedalong the gallery, and darted into the attic.

  Edmond, Hippolyte Fauville's son, lay stiff and stark on his bed, with acadaverous face, dead, too.

  "Dash it all! Dash it all!" repeated Mazeroux.

  Never, perhaps, in the course of his adventurous career, had Perennaexperienced such a knockdown blow. It gave him a feeling of extremelassitude, depriving him of all power of speech or movement. Father andson were dead! They had been killed during that night! A few hoursearlier, though the house was watched and every outlet hermeticallyclosed, both had been poisoned by an infernal puncture, even as InspectorVerot was poisoned, even as Cosmo Mornington was poisoned.

  "Dash it all!" said Mazeroux once more. "It was not worth troubling aboutthe poor devils and performing such miracles to save them!"

  The exclamation conveyed a reproach. Perenna grasped it and admitted:

  "You are right, Mazeroux; I was not equal to the job."

  "Nor I, Chief."

  "You ... you have only been in this business since yesterday evening--"

  "Well, so have you, Chief!"

  "Yes, I know, since yesterday evening, whereas the others have beenworking at it for weeks and weeks. But, all the same, these two are dead;and I was there, I, Lupin, was there! The thing has been done under myeyes; and I saw nothing! I saw nothing! How is it possible?"

  He uncovered the poor boy's shoulders, showing the mark of a puncture atthe top of the arm.

  "The same mark--the same mark obviously that we shall find on thefather.... The lad does not seem to have suffered, either.... Poor littlechap! He did not look very strong.... Never mind, it's a nice face; whata terrible blow for his mother when she learns!"

  The detective sergeant wept with anger and pity, while he kept onmumbling:

  "Dash it all!... Dash it all!"

  "We shall avenge them, eh, Mazeroux?"

  "Rather, Chief! Twice over!"

  "Once will do, Mazeroux. But it shall be done with a will."

  "That I swear it shall!"

  "You're right; let's swear. Let us swear that this dead pair shall beavenged. Let us swear not to lay down our arms until the murderers ofHippolyte Fauville and his son are punished as they deserve."

  "I swear it as I hope to be saved, Chief."

  "Good!" said Perenna. "And now to work. You go and telephone at once tothe police office. I am sure that M. Desmalions will approve of yourinforming him without delay. He takes an immense interest in the case."

  "And if the servants come? If Mme. Fauville--?"

  "No one will come till we open the doors; and we shan't open them exceptto the Prefect of Police. It will be for him, afterward, to tell Mme.Fauville that she is a widow and that she has no son. Go! Hurry!"

  "One moment, Chief; we are forgetting something that will help usenormously."

  "What's that?"

  "The little drab-cloth diary in the safe, in which M. Fauville describesthe plot against him."

  "Why, of course!" said Perenna. "You're right ... especially as heomitted to mix up the letters of the lock last night, and the key is onthe bunch which he left lying on the table."

  They ran down the stairs.

  "Leave this to me," said Mazeroux. "It's more regular that you shouldn'ttouch the safe."

  He took the bunch, moved the glass case, and inserted the key with afeverish emotion which Don Luis felt even more acutely than he did. Theywere at last about to know the details of the mysterious story. The deadman himself would betray the secret of his murderers.

  "Lord, what a time you take!" growled Don Luis.

  Mazeroux plunged both hands into the crowd of papers that encumbered theiron shelf.

  "Well, Mazeroux, hand it over."

  "What?"

  "The diary."

  "I can't Chief."

  "What's that?"

  "It's gone."

  Don Luis stifled an oath. The drab-cloth diary, which the engineer hadplaced in the safe before their eyes, had disappeared.

  Mazeroux shook his head.

  "Dash it all! So they knew about that diary!"

  "Of course they did; and they knew plenty of other things besides.We've not seen the end of it with those fellows. There's no time tolose. Ring up!"

  Mazeroux did so and soon received the answer that M. Desmalions wascoming to the telephone. He waited.

  In a few minutes Perenna, who had been walking up and down, examiningdifferent objects in the room, came and sat down beside Mazeroux. Heseemed thoughtful. He reflected for some time. But then, his eyes fallingon the fruit dish, he muttered:

  "Hullo! There are only three apples instead of four. Then he atethe fourth."

  "Yes," said Mazeroux, "he must have eaten it."

  "That's funny," replied Perenna, "for he didn't think them ripe."

  He was silent once more, sat leaning his elbows on the table, visiblypreoccupied; then, raising his head, he let fall these words:

  "The murder was committed before we entered the room, at half-pasttwelve exactly."

  "How do you know, Chief?"

  "M. Fauville's murderer or murderers, in touching the things on thetable, knocked down the watch which M. Fauville had placed there.They put it back; but the fall had stopped it. And it stopped athalf-past twelve."

  "Then, Chief, when we settled ourselves here, at two in the morning, itwas a corpse that was lying beside us and another over our heads?"

  "Yes."

  "But how did those devils get in?"

  "Through this door, which opens on the garden, and through the gate thatopens on the Boulevard Suchet."

  "Then they had keys to the locks and bolts?"

  "False keys, yes."

  "But the policemen watching the house outside?"

  "They are still watching it, as that sort watch a house, walking frompoint to point without thinking that people can slip into a gardenwhile they have their backs turned. That's what took place in comingand going."

  Sergeant Mazeroux seemed flabbergasted. The criminals' daring, theirskill, the precision of their acts bewildered him.

  "They're deuced clever," he said.

  "Deuced clever, Mazeroux, as you say; and I foresee a tremendous battle.By Jupiter, with what a vim they set to work!"

  The telephone bell rang. Don Luis left Mazeroux to his conversation withthe Prefect, and, taking the bunch of keys, easily unfastened the lockand the bolt of the door and went out into the garden, in the hope ofthere finding some trace that should f
acilitate his quest.

  As on the day before, he saw, through the ivy, two policemen walkingbetween one lamp-post and the next. They did not see him. Moreover,anything that might happen inside the house appeared to be to them amatter of total indifference.

  "That's my great mistake," said Perenna to himself. "It doesn't do toentrust a job to people who do not suspect its importance."

  His investigations led to the discovery of some traces of footsteps onthe gravel, traces not sufficiently plain to enable him to distinguishthe shape of the shoes that had left them, yet distinct enough to confirmhis supposition. The scoundrels had been that way.

  Suddenly he gave a movement of delight. Against the border of the path,among the leaves of a little clump of rhododendrons, he saw somethingred, the shape of which at once struck him. He stooped. It was anapple, the fourth apple, the one whose absence from the fruit dish hehad noticed.

  "Excellent!" he said. "Hippolyte Fauville did not eat it. One of themmust have carried it away--a fit of appetite, a sudden hunger--and itmust have rolled from his hand without his having time to look for it andpick it up."

  He took up the fruit and examined it.

  "What!" he exclaimed, with a start. "Can it be possible?"

  He stood dumfounded, a prey to real excitement, refusing to admit theinadmissible thing which nevertheless presented itself to his eyeswith the direct evidence of actuality. Some one had bitten into theapple; into the apple which was too sour to eat. And the teeth hadleft their mark!

  "Is it possible?" repeated Don Luis. "Is it possible that one of themcan have been guilty of such an imprudence! The apple must havefallen without his knowing ... or he must have been unable to find itin the dark."

  He could not get over his surprise. He cast about for plausibleexplanations. But the fact was there before him. Two rows of teeth,cutting through the thin red peel, had left their regular, semicircularbite clearly in the pulp of the fruit. They were clearly marked on thetop, while the lower row had melted into a single curved line.

  "The teeth of the tiger!" murmured Perenna, who could not remove his eyesfrom that double imprint. "The teeth of the tiger! The teeth that hadalready left their mark on Inspector Verot's piece of chocolate! What acoincidence! It can hardly be fortuitous. Must we not take it as certainthat the same person bit into this apple and into that cake of chocolatewhich Inspector Verot brought to the police office as an incontestablepiece of evidence?"

  He hesitated a second. Should he keep this evidence for himself, for thepersonal inquiry which he meant to conduct? Or should he surrender it tothe investigations of the police? But the touch of the object filled himwith such repugnance, with such a sense of physical discomfort, that heflung away the apple and sent it rolling under the leaves of the shrubs.

  And he repeated to himself:

  "The teeth of the tiger! The teeth of the wild beast!"

  He locked the garden door behind him, bolted it, put back the keys on thetable and said to Mazeroux:

  "Have you spoken to the Chief of Police?"

  "Yes."

  "Is he coming?"

  "Yes."

  "Didn't he order you to telephone for the commissary of police?"

  "No."

  "That means that he wants to see everything by himself. So much thebetter. But the detective office? The public prosecutor?"

  "He's told them."

  "What's the matter with you, Alexandre? I have to drag your answers outof you. Well, what is it? You're looking at me very queerly. What's up?"

  "Nothing."

  "That's all right. I expect this business has turned your head. And nowonder.... The Prefect won't enjoy himself, either, ... especially as heput his faith in me a bit light-heartedly and will be called upon to givean explanation of my presence here. By the way, it's much better that youshould take upon yourself the responsibility for all that we have done.Don't you agree? Besides, it'll do you all the good in the world.

  "Put yourself forward, flatly; suppress me as much as you can; and, aboveall--I don't suppose that you will have any objection to this littledetail--don't be such a fool as to say that you went to sleep for asingle second, last night, in the passage. First of all, you'd only beblamed for it. And then ... well, that's understood, eh? So we have onlyto say good-bye.

  "If the Prefect wants me, as I expect he will, telephone to my address,Place du Palais-Bourbon. I shall be there. Good-bye. It is not necessaryfor me to assist at the inquiry; my presence would be out of place.Good-bye, old chap."

  He turned toward the door of the passage.

  "Half a moment!" cried Mazeroux.

  "Half a moment?... What do you mean?"

  The detective sergeant had flung himself between him and the door and wasblocking his way.

  "Yes, half a moment ... I am not of your opinion. It's far better thatyou should wait until the Prefect comes."

  "But I don't care a hang about your opinion!"

  "May be; but you shan't pass."

  "What! Why, Alexandre, you must be ill!"

  "Look here, Chief," said Mazeroux feebly. "What can it matter to you?It's only natural that the Prefect should wish to speak to you."

  "Ah, it's the Prefect who wishes, is it?... Well, my lad, you can tellhim that I am not at his orders, that I am at nobody's orders, and that,if the President of the Republic, if Napoleon I himself were to bar myway ... Besides, rats! Enough said. Get out of the road!"

  "You shall not pass!" declared Mazeroux, in a resolute tone,extending his arms.

  "Well, I like that!"

  "You shall not pass."

  "Alexandre, just count ten."

  "A hundred, if you like, but you shall not...."

  "Oh, blow your catchwords! Get out of this."

  He seized Mazeroux by both shoulders, made him spin round on hisheels and, with a push, sent him floundering over the sofa. Then heopened the door.

  "Halt, or I fire!"

  It was Mazeroux, who had scrambled to his feet and now stood with hisrevolver in his hand and a determined expression on his face.

  Don Luis stopped in amazement. The threat was absolutely indifferent tohim, and the barrel of that revolver aimed at him left him as cold ascould be. But by what prodigy did Mazeroux, his former accomplice, hisardent disciple, his devoted servant, by what prodigy did Mazeroux dareto act as he was doing?

  Perenna went up to him and pressed gently on the detective'soutstretched arm.

  "Prefect's orders?" he asked.

  "Yes," muttered the sergeant, uncomfortably.

  "Orders to keep me here until he comes?"

  "Yes."

  "And if I betrayed an intention of leaving, to prevent me?"

  "Yes."

  "By every means?"

  "Yes."

  "Even by putting a bullet through my skin?"

  "Yes."

  Perenna reflected; and then, in a serious voice:

  "Would you have fired, Mazeroux?"

  The sergeant lowered his head and said faintly:

  "Yes, Chief."

  Perenna looked at him without anger, with a glance of affectionatesympathy; and it was an absorbing sight for him to see his formercompanion dominated by such a sense of discipline and duty. Nothing wasable to prevail against that sense, not even the fierce admiration, thealmost animal attachment which Mazeroux retained for his master.

  "I'm not angry, Mazeroux. In fact, I approve. Only you must tell me thereason why the Prefect of Police--"

  The detective did not reply, but his eyes wore an expression of suchsadness that Don Luis started, suddenly understanding.

  "No," he cried, "no!... It's absurd ... he can't have thoughtthat!... And you, Mazeroux, do you believe me guilty?"

  "Oh, I, Chief, am as sure of you as I am of myself!... You don't takelife!... But, all the same, there are things ... coincidences--"

  "Things ... coincidences ..." repeated Don Luis slowly.

  He remained pensive; and, in a low voice, he said:

  "Yes, af
ter all, there's truth in what you say.... Yes, it all fitsin.... Why didn't I think of it?... My relations with Cosmo Mornington,my arrival in Paris in time for the reading of the will, my insisting onspending the night here, the fact that the death of the two Fauvillesundoubtedly gives me the millions.... And then ... and then ... why, he'sabsolutely right, your Prefect of Police!... All the more so as.... Well,there, I'm a goner!"

  "Come, come, Chief!"

  "A dead-goner, old chap; you just get that into your head. Not as ArseneLupin, ex-burglar, ex-convict, ex-anything you please--I'm unattackableon that ground--but as Don Luis Perenna, respectable man, residuarylegatee, and the rest of it. And it's too stupid! For, after all, whowill find the murderers of Cosmo, Verot, and the two Fauvilles, if theygo clapping me into jail?"

  "Come, come, Chief--"

  "Shut up! ... Listen!"

  A motor car was stopping on the boulevard, followed by another. Itwas evidently the Prefect and the magistrates from the publicprosecutor's office.

  Don Luis took Mazeroux by the arm.

  "There's only one way out of it, Alexandre! Don't say you went to sleep."

  "I must, Chief."

  "You silly ass!" growled Don Luis. "How is it possible to be such an ass!It's enough to disgust one with honesty. What am I to do, then?"

  "Discover the culprit, Chief."

  "What! ... What are you talking about?"

  Mazeroux, in his turn, took him by the arm and, clutching him with a sortof despair, said, in a voice choked with tears:

  "Discover the culprit, Chief. If not, you're done for ... that'scertain ... the Prefect told me so. ... The police want aculprit ... they want him this evening.... One has got to befound.... It's up to you to find him."

  "What you have, Alexandre, is a merry wit."

  "It's child's play for you, Chief. You have only to set your mind to it."

  "But there's not the least clue, you ass!"

  "You'll find one ... you must ... I entreat you, hand them oversomebody.... It would be more than I could bear if you were arrested.You, the chief, accused of murder! No, no.... I entreat you, discover thecriminal and hand him over.... You have the whole day to do it in...andLupin has done greater things than that!"

  He was stammering, weeping, wringing his hands, grimacing with everyfeature of his comic face. And it was really touching, this grief, thisdismay at the approach of the danger that threatened his master.

  M. Desmalions's voice was heard in the hall, through the curtain thatclosed the passage. A third motor car stopped on the boulevard, and afourth, both doubtless laden with policemen.

  The house was surrounded, besieged.

  Perenna was silent.

  Beside him, anxious-faced, Mazeroux seemed to be imploring him.

  A few seconds elapsed.

  Then Perenna declared, deliberately:

  "Looking at things all round, Alexandre, I admit that you have seen theposition clearly and that your fears are fully justified. If I do notmanage to hand over the murderer or murderers of Hippolyte Fauville andhis son to the police in a few hours from now, it is I, Don Luis Perenna,who will be lodged in durance vile on the evening of this Thursday, thefirst of April."