. Marie soothed her,
and hoped that Jean's compassion might be as strong as her own. Had she
not been taken up with Perine, she would have more quickly caught the
impatient scratching like a mouse in the wainscot, with which he
summoned her.

He made signs that he must speak, and with some difficulty she got
Perine into the landing, thrusting into her hands the bread which would
have been her own portion. Then she locked her door and went back to
Jean, who was eagerly waiting.

"Marie, I have a thought," he began. "What do you make out of all she
says?"

"Next to nothing," said his wife, shrugging her shoulders.

"No?" said Jean, feverishly and a little contemptuously. "Suppose I
suggested that she saw the figures on the lamp of a cab, what then?"

"What then?" repeated she, puzzled.

"And a box, and a man angry with her for looking. What then?"

"Oh, I don't understand!" said Marie, shaking her head.

"Heavens, that any one should be so dense! Have you forgotten the
robbery?"

"In the Rue Vivienne--oh, do you mean--do you think it possible! Jean,
how clever you are! I wonder whether--shall I run to the place and see?"

"To the place, and even if they were still there, get yourself knocked
on the head!"

"I should not mind," cried Marie eagerly. "I should mind nothing with
such a hope before me."

"No, my good Marie," Jean returned grandly; "you have excellent
intentions, but it is well you have some one to guide you. The first
thing is to find a _commissaire_ of police."

The name seemed terrible; she turned pale, but he hurried on, losing
himself again in his excitement, and with all his haggard features
working:

"Yes, yes, I know what you will say, but do you not understand that if
this is what I believe, anything will be forgiven to the man who can put
the _sergent de ville_ on the track?"

"_If!_ At any rate I will do what you bid me," the young wife said,
trembling. "There is a _bureau_ not so far away. Only promise me you
will be prudent, for I must leave Perine here, though I will lock the
door. Remember, M. Plon has his own keys."

Nor would she relax one of her precautions in spite of his heated
impatience. But she had spoken truly, for after the daily fear of years,
the personal danger of encountering the robbers assuredly seemed nothing
in comparison with having to do with the police. She told Perine where
she was to sit, and tried to extract more coherent details, but only as
to the f