By his instructions, the chauffeur set them down near the Square
Lamartine, but kept the motor going. Lupin foresaw that Daubrecq, in
order to escape the detectives watching the house, would jump into the
first taxi; and he did not intend to be outdistanced.

He had not allowed for Daubrecq's cleverness.

At half-past seven both leaves of the garden-gate were flung open, a
bright light flashed and a motor-cycle darted across the road, skirted
the square, turned in front of the motor-car and shot away toward the
Bois at a speed so great that they would have been mad to go in pursuit
of it.

"Good-bye, Daisy!" said Lupin, trying to jest, but really overcome with
rage.

He eyed his accomplices in the hope that one of them would venture to
give a mocking smile. How pleased he would have been to vent his nerves
on them!

"Let's go home," he said to his companions.

He gave them some dinner; then he smoked a cigar and they set off again
in the car and went the round of the theatres, beginning with those
which were giving light operas and musical comedies, for which he
presumed that Daubrecq and his lady would have a preference. He took a
stall, inspected the lower-tier boxes and went away again.

He next drove to the more serious theatres: the Renaissance, the
Gymnase.

At last, at ten o'clock in the evening, he saw a pit-tier box at the
Vaudeville almost entirely protected from inspection by its two screens;
and, on tipping the boxkeeper, was told that it contained a short,
stout, elderly gentleman and a lady who was wearing a thick lace veil.

The next box was free. He took it, went back to his friends to give them
their instructions and sat down near the couple.

During the entr'acte, when the lights went up, he perceived Daubrecq's
profile. The lady remained at the back of the box, invisible. The two
were speaking in a low voice; and, when the curtain rose again, they
went on speaking, but in such a way that Lupin could not distinguish a
word.

Ten minutes passed. Some one tapped at their door. It was one of the men
from the box-office.

"Are you M. le Depute Daubrecq, sir?" he asked.

"Yes," said Daubrecq, in a voice of surprise. "But how do you know my
name?"

"There's a gentleman asking for you on the telephone. He told me to go
to Box 22."

"But who is it?"

"M. le Marquis d'Albufex."

"Eh?"

"What am I to say, sir?"

"I'm coming... I'm coming..."

Daubrecq rose hurriedly from his seat a