fection. And Maitre Lepertais and Perenna,
having fixed an appointment for the payment of the legacy, were
themselves on the point of leaving, when M. Desmalions entered briskly.

"Ah, so you're still here, Don Luis Perenna! I'm glad of that. I have an
idea: those three letters which you say you made out on the
writing-table, are you sure they form the syllable Fau?"

"I think so, Monsieur le Prefet. See for yourself: are not these an 'F,'
an 'A' and a 'U?' And observe that the 'F' is a capital, which made me
suspect that the letters are the first syllable of a proper name."

"Just so, just so," said M. Desmalions. "Well, curiously enough, that
syllable happens to be--But wait, we'll verify our facts--"

M. Desmalions searched hurriedly among the letters which his secretary
had handed him on his arrival and which lay on a corner of the table.

"Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed, glancing at the signature of one of the
letters. "Here we are! It's as I thought: 'Fauville.' ... The first
syllable is the same.... Look, 'Fauville,' just like that, without
Christian name or initials. The letter must have been written in a
feverish moment: there is no date nor address.... The writing is shaky--"

And M. Desmalions read out:

"MONSIEUR LE PREFET:

"A great danger is hanging over my head and over the head of my son.
Death is approaching apace. I shall have to-night, or to-morrow morning
at the latest, the proofs of the abominable plot that threatens us. I ask
leave to bring them to you in the course of the morning. I am in need of
protection and I call for your assistance.

"Permit me to be, etc. FAUVILLE."

"No other designation?" asked Perenna. "No letter-heading?"

"None. But there is no mistake. Inspector Verot's declarations agree too
evidently with this despairing appeal. It is clearly M. Fauville and his
son who are to be murdered to-night. And the terrible thing is that, as
this name of Fauville is a very common one, it is impossible for our
inquiries to succeed in time."

"What, Monsieur le Prefet? Surely, by straining every nerve--"

"Certainly, we will strain every nerve; and I shall set all my men to
work. But observe that we have not the slightest clue."

"Oh, it would be awful!" cried Don Luis. "Those two creatures doomed to
death; and we unable to save them! Monsieur le Prefet, I ask you to
authorize me--"

He had not finished speaking when the Prefect's private secretary entered
with a visiting-card