oom where he had left Charles Rambert, and
looked at the sleeping lad.

"It's a fine thing to be young," he remarked to the man he had left on
guard; "that boy plunges into the wildest adventures and shaves the
scaffold by an inch, and yet after one late night he sleeps as
peacefully as any chancellor of the Legion of Honour!" He shook the lad
with a friendly hand. "Get up, lazy-bones! It's ten o'clock: high time
for me to carry you off."

"Where to?" the unhappy boy asked, rubbing his eyes.

"There's no doubt about inquisitiveness being your besetting sin," Juve
replied cryptically. "Well, we've got a quarter of an hour's drive in
front of us. But you're not going to prison; I'm going to take you home
with me!"

* * * * *

Juve had taken off his collar and tie and put on an old jacket, had set
a great bowl of bread and milk in front of Charles Rambert, and was
leisurely enjoying his own breakfast.

"I didn't want to answer any questions just now," he said, "because I
hate talking in cabs where I have to sit by a man's side, and can't see
him or hear half he says. But now that we are snug and comfortable here,
I've no right to keep you waiting any longer, and I'll give you a bit of
good news."

"Snug" and "comfortable" were the right words with which to describe
Juve's private abode. The detective had attained an honourable and
lucrative position in his profession, and, exposed as he was in the
course of his work to all manner of dangers and privations, had
compensated himself by making an entirely satisfactory, if not
luxurious, nest where he could rest after his labours.

When he had finished his breakfast he lighted a big cigar and sank into
an easy chair, crossing his hands behind his head. He turned a steady
gaze upon Charles Rambert, who was still completely puzzled, and half
frightened by this sudden amiability, and did not know whether he was a
prisoner or not.

"I will give you a bit of good news; that is, that you are innocent of
the Langrune affair when you were Charles Rambert, and innocent also of
the Danidoff affair, when you were Mademoiselle Jeanne. I need not say
anything about the scrap last night, in which you played a still more
distinguished part."

"Why tell me that?" asked Charles Rambert nervously. "Of course I know I
did not rob Princess Sonia Danidoff; but how did you recognise me last
night, and how did you find out that I was Mademoiselle Jeanne?"