waiting for me inside those
dingy walls. Yes, twenty thousand, for by now I had fully made up my
mind. I had two documents concealed beneath the floor of my
bedroom--one so like the other that none could tell them apart. One of
these I would restore to the lovely being who had offered me ten
thousand francs for it, and the other I would sell to my first and
uncouth client for another ten thousand francs!

Four hundred! Bah! Ten thousand shall you pay for the treaty, my
friend of the Danish or Russian Secret Service! Ten thousand!--it is
worth that to you!

In that happy frame of mind I reached the front door of my dingy
abode. Imagine my surprise on being confronted with two agents of
police, each with fixed bayonet, who refused to let me pass.

"But I lodge here," I said.

"Your name?" queried one of the men. "Hector Ratichon," I
replied. Whereupon they gave me leave to enter.

It was very mysterious. My heart beat furiously. Fear for the safety
of my precious papers held me in a death-like grip. I ran straight to
my room, locked the door after me, and pulled the curtains together in
front of the window. Then, with hands that trembled as if with ague, I
pulled aside the strip of carpet which concealed the hiding-place of
what meant a fortune to me.

I nearly fainted with joy; the papers were there--quite safely. I took
them out and replaced them inside my coat.

Then I ran up to see if Theodore was in. I found him in bed. He told
me that he had left the office whilst my visitors were still with me,
as he felt terribly sick. He had been greatly upset when, about an
hour ago, the maid-of-all-work had informed him that the police were
in the house, that they would allow no one--except the persons lodging
in the house--to enter it, and no one, once in, would be allowed to
leave. How long these orders would hold good Theodore did not know.

I left him moaning and groaning and declaring that he felt very ill,
and I went in quest of information. The corporal in command of the
gendarmes was exceedingly curt with me at first, but after a time he
unbent and condescended to tell me that my landlord had been denounced
for permitting a Bonapartiste club to hold its sittings in his house.
So far so good. Such denunciations were very frequent these days, and
often ended unpleasantly for those concerned, but the affair had
obviously nothing to do with me. I felt that I could breathe again.
But there was still the matter of