you. It is
not elegantly furnished like this room."

"Would I be comfortable there?"

"Upon my recommendation you would be treated like a queen, and, above
all, concealed."

"Where is it?"

"On the other side of the river, Quai Saint Michel, the Archangel, kept
by Mme. Alexandre."

Mme. Nina was never long making up her mind.

"Here are pen and paper; write your recommendation."

He rapidly wrote, and handed her the letter.

"With these three lines, madame, you can make Mme. Alexandre do anything
you wish."

"Very good. Now, how am I to let Cavaillon know my address? It was he
who should have brought me Prosper's letter."

"He was unable to come, madame," interrupted the detective, "but I will
give him your address."

Mme. Gypsy was about to send for a carriage, but Fanferlot said he was
in a hurry, and would send her one. He seemed to be in luck that day;
for a cab was passing the door, and he hailed it.

"Wait here," he said to the driver, after telling him that he was a
detective, "for a little brunette who is coming down with some trunks.
If she tells you to drive her to Quai Saint Michel, crack your whip; if
she gives you any other address, get down from your seat, and arrange
your harness. I will keep in sight."

He stepped across the street, and stood in the door of a wine-store.
He had not long to wait. In a few minutes the loud cracking of a whip
apprised him that Mme. Nina had started for the Archangel.

"Aha," said he, gayly, "I told _her_, at any rate."

IV

At the same hour that Mme. Nina Gypsy was seeking refuge at the
Archangel, so highly recommended by Fanferlot the Squirrel, Prosper
Bertomy was being entered on the jailer's book at the police office.

Since the moment when he had resumed his habitual composure, he had not
faltered.

Vainly did the people around him watch for a suspicious expression, or
any sign of giving way under the danger of his situation.

His face was like marble.

One would have supposed him insensible to the horrors of his condition,
had not his heavy breathing, and the beads of perspiration standing on
his brow, betrayed the intense agony he was suffering.

At the police office, where he had to wait two hours while the
commissary went to receive orders from higher authorities, he entered
into conversation with the two bailiffs who had charge of him.

At twelve o'clock he said he was hungry, and sent to a restaurant near
by for his breakfast, w