the consigne. If no one, save the
persons who lodged in the house, would be allowed to enter it, how
would M. Charles Saurez contrive to call for the stolen document and,
incidentally, to hand me over the ten thousand francs I was hoping for?
And if no one, once inside the house, would be allowed to leave it,
how could I meet Mlle. Geoffroy to-morrow at two o'clock in my office
and receive ten thousand francs from her in exchange for the precious
paper?

Moreover the longer the police stayed in this house and poked their
noses about in affairs that concerned hardworking citizens like
myself--why--the greater the risk would be of the matter of the stolen
document coming to light.

It was positively maddening.

I never undressed that night, but just lay down on my bed, thinking.
The house was very still at times, but at others I could hear the
tramp of the police agents up and down the stairs and also outside my
window. The latter gave on a small, dilapidated back garden which had
a wooden fence at the end of it. Beyond it were some market gardens
belonging to a M. Lorraine. It did not take me very long to realize
that that way lay my fortune of twenty thousand francs. But for the
moment I remained very still. My plan was already made. At about
midnight I went to the window and opened it cautiously. I had heard no
noise from that direction for some time, and I bent my ear to listen.

Not a sound! Either the sentry was asleep, or he had gone on his
round, and for a few moments the way was free. Without a moment's
hesitation I swung my leg over the sill.

Still no sound. My heart beat so fast that I could almost hear it. The
night was very dark. A thin mist-like drizzle was falling; in fact the
weather conditions were absolutely perfect for my purpose. With utmost
wariness I allowed myself to drop from the window-ledge on to the soft
ground below.

If I was caught by the sentry I had my answer ready: I was going to
meet my sweetheart at the end of the garden. It is an excuse which
always meets with the sympathy of every true-hearted Frenchman. The
sentry would, of course, order me back to my room, but I doubt if he
would ill-use me; the denunciation was against the landlord, not
against me.

Still not a sound. I could have danced with joy. Five minutes more and
I would be across the garden and over that wooden fence, and once more
on my way to fortune. My fall from the window had been light, as my
room was on the