o
contradiction, the fat man said:

"I have a way. Has Clameran, since he found that his papers had been
searched, seen Lagors?"

"No, patron."

"Perhaps he has written to him?"

"I'll bet you my head he has not. Having your orders to watch his
correspondence, I invented a little system which informs me every time
he touches a pen; during the last twenty-four hours the pens have not
been touched."

"Clameran went out yesterday."

"But the man who followed him says he wrote nothing on the way."

"Then we have time yet!" cried Verduret. "Hurry! Hurry! I give you
fifteen minutes to make yourself a head; you know the sort; I will watch
the rascal until you come up."

The delighted Joseph disappeared in a twinkling; while Prosper and M.
Verduret remained at the window observing Clameran, who, according to
the movements of the crowd, was sometimes lost to sight, and sometimes
just in front of the window, but was evidently determined not to quit
his post until he had obtained the information he sought.

"Why do you devote yourself exclusively to the marquis?" asked Prosper.

"Because, my friend," replied M. Verduret, "because--that is my
business, and not yours."

Joseph Dubois had been granted a quarter of an hour in which to
metamorphose himself; before ten minutes had elapsed he reappeared.

The dandified coachman with Bergami whiskers, red vest, and foppish
manners, was replaced by a sinister-looking individual, whose very
appearance was enough to scare any rogue.

His black cravat twisted around a paper collar, and ornamented by an
imitation diamond pin; his long-tailed black boots and heavy cane,
revealed the employee of the Rue de Jerusalem, as plainly as the
shoulder-straps mark a soldier.

Joseph Dubois had vanished forever; and from his livery, phoenix-like
and triumphant, arose the radiant Fanferlot, surnamed the Squirrel.

When Fanferlot entered the room, Prosper uttered a cry of surprise and
almost fright.

He recognized the man who had assisted the commissary of police to
examine the bank on the day of the robbery.

M. Verduret examined his aide with a satisfied look, and said:

"Not bad! There is enough of the police-court air about you to alarm
even an honest man. You understood me perfectly this time."

Fanferlot was transported with delight at this compliment.

"What must I do now, patron?" he inquired.

"Nothing difficult for an adroit man: but remember, upon the precision
of our