the mantelpiece for support.

"How upset the baron is!" thought Inspector Michel. "Hardly to be
wondered at!" He hurried on with his statement.

"We were on the watch on the Esplanade des Invalides, about half an
hour ago--nothing to do with this affair--when we saw Vagualame
approaching this house."

"You saw Vagualame!" exclaimed the baron, with the amazed, incredulous
look of a man who finds himself suddenly faced by a set of lunatics.
"But--it's--it is ..." he gasped.

"It is so, Monsieur," asserted Inspector Michel. "This old ruffian,
after lingering about a few minutes to assure himself that he was not
being followed--we managed to conceal ourselves sufficiently behind
the trees--Vagualame effected a most suspicious entry into your house,
Monsieur. He climbed the wall with the help of a gutter-pipe, and
entered the house through a half-opened window on the third floor! You
permit, Monsieur, that we take action at once!"

Without waiting for the baron's authorisation, Inspector Michel made a
sign to his colleagues. They removed their overcoats, placed them on a
chair, drew out their revolvers, and left the room.

The detectives were on the first steps of the flight of stairs leading
to the third story, when they heard voices just above them. The
piercing notes of the new groom's mother mingled with the refined
accents of Wilhelmine de Naarboveck, who, in the absence of her
companion, was about to show the new groom the room allotted to him.
In such matters Wilhelmine was more punctilious than most.

* * * * *

"Did you hear, Vagualame?"

Bobinette paled. Could her overstrung nerves be playing her tricks?
No.... There certainly were voices, voices on the floor below, strange
voices!... Whose?... Why?

Vagualame was seated at the foot of the bed, much at his ease. His
accordion lay on the floor. He met Bobinette's urgency with a shrug.

"Bah!"

With a despairing gesture, the terrified girl moved close to the old
man.

"Don't you understand?... They have seen you! They are after you!...
Master!" Bobinette bent forward, looked Vagualame in the eyes ...
started ... drew back with a jerk.

This was not the Vagualame she knew!... Not her master!... Who,
then?... Who but an enemy?... A police spy?... Horror!... She was
trapped!... Lost!

Her heart was beating frightfully--beating to bursting point. Were her
knees going to give way?... They should not!... Play the poltroon?