hief of the detectives."

"And the others?"

"The others?... It's the Germans making their investigation."

It was then four o'clock in the afternoon.

*
* *

The remainder of that day passed peacefully at the Old Mill. Suzanne
arrived from Boersweilen at nightfall, looking radiant. They had given
her a letter from her father and she would be authorized to see him on
Saturday.

"You will not even have to go back to Boersweilen," said Morestal. "Your
father will come to fetch you here, won't he, Philippe?"

Dinner brought them all five together under the family lamp; and they
experienced a feeling of relaxation, comfort and repose. They drank to
the special commissary's health. And it seemed to them as if his place
were not even empty, so great was the certainty with which they expected
his return.

Philippe was the only one who did not share in the general gaiety.
Sitting beside Marthe and opposite Suzanne, he was bound, with his
upright nature and his sane judgment, to suffer at finding himself
situated in such a false position. Since the night before last, since
the moment when he had left Suzanne while the dawning light of day stole
into her room at Saint-Elophe, this was the first instant that he had
had any sort of time to conjure up the memory of those unnerving hours.
Alarmed by the course of events, obsessed by his anxiety about the way
in which he was to act, his one and only thought of Suzanne had been how
not to compromise her.

Now, he saw her before him. He heard her laugh and talk. She lived in
his presence, not as he had known her in Paris and found her at
Saint-Elophe, but adorned with a different charm, of which he knew the
mysterious secret. True, he remained master of himself and he clearly
felt that no temptation would induce him to succumb a second time. But
could he help it that she had fair hair, the colour of which bewitched
him, and quivering lips and a voice melodious as a song? And could he
help it that all this filled him with an emotion which every minute that
passed made more profound?

Their eyes met. Suzanne trembled under Philippe's gaze. A sort of
bashfulness decked her as with a veil that gives added beauty to its
wearer. She was as desirable as a wife and as winsome as a bride.

At that moment, Marthe smiled to Philippe. He turned red and thought:

"I shall go away to-morrow."

His decision was taken