went on his knees, made the sign of the
cross, and said his prayers in a low voice. The action was so impressive
that the secretary general and the chief detective made a movement as
though to go toward the Prefect of Police.

M. Desmalions turned away his head and continued his walk up and down the
room. But his anguish increased; and the words which he had heard over
the telephone rang in his ears; and all Perenna's authority, his ardent
entreaties, his frenzied conviction--all this upset him. He had seen
Perenna at work. He felt it borne in upon him that he had no right, in
the present circumstances, to neglect the man's warning.

"Let's go," he said.

The words were spoken in the calmest manner; and it really seemed as if
those who heard them regarded them merely as the sensible conclusion of
a very ordinary state of affairs. They went away without hurry or
disorder, not as fugitives, but as men deliberately obeying the dictates
of prudence.

They stood back at the door to let the Prefect go first.

"No," he said, "go on; I'll follow you."

He was the last out, leaving the electric light full on.

In the hall he asked the chief detective to blow his whistle. When all
the plain-clothesmen had assembled, he sent them out of the house
together with the porter, and shut the door behind him. Then, calling the
detectives who were watching the boulevard, he said:

"Let everybody stand a good distance away; push the crowd as far back
as you can; and be quick about it. We shall enter the house again in
half an hour."

"And you, Monsieur le Prefet?" whispered Mazeroux, "You won't remain
here, I hope?"

"No, that I shan't!" he said, laughing. "If I take our friend Perenna's
advice at all, I may as well take it thoroughly!"

"There is only two minutes left."

"Our friend Perenna spoke of three o'clock, not of two minutes to
three. So--"

He crossed the boulevard, accompanied by his secretary general, the chief
detective, and Mazeroux, and clambered up the slope of the fortifications
opposite the house.

"Perhaps we ought to stoop down," suggested Mazeroux.

"Let's stoop, by all means," said the Prefect, still in a good humour.
"But, honestly, if there's no explosion, I shall send a bullet through my
head. I could not go on living after making myself look so ridiculous."

"There will be an explosion, Monsieur le Prefet," declared Mazeroux.

"What confidence you must have in our friend Don Luis!"

"You hav