rove their meeting and their complicity.
Sauverand handed Lupin the half of the walking-stick which he had carried
away unawares. You will find it under the cushions of a sofa standing
between the two windows of Perenna's study.

Don Luis shrugged his shoulders. The letter was absurd; for he had not
once left his study. He folded it up quietly and handed it to the Prefect
of Police without comment. He was resolved to let M. Desmalions take the
initiative in the conversation.

The Prefect asked:

"What is your reply to the accusation?"

"None, Monsieur le Prefet."

"Still, it is quite plain and easy to prove or disprove."

"Very easy, indeed, Monsieur le Prefet; the sofa is there, between
the windows."

M. Desmalions waited two or three seconds and then walked to the sofa and
moved the cushions. Under one of them lay the handle end of the
walking-stick.

Don Luis could not repress a gesture of amazement and anger. He had not
for a second contemplated the possibility of such a miracle; and it took
him unawares. However, he mastered himself. After all, there was nothing
to prove that this half of a walking-stick was really that which had
been seen in Gaston Sauverand's hands and which Sauverand had carried
away by mistake.

"I have the other half on me," said the Prefect of Police, replying to
the unspoken objection. "Deputy Chief Weber himself picked it up on the
Boulevard Richard-Wallace. Here it is."

He produced it from the inside pocket of his overcoat and tried it. The
ends of the two pieces fitted exactly.

There was a fresh pause. Perenna was confused, as were those, invariably,
upon whom he himself used to inflict this kind of defeat and humiliation.
He could not get over it. By what prodigy had Gaston Sauverand managed,
in that short space of twenty minutes, to enter the house and make his
way into this room? Even the theory of an accomplice living in the house
did not do much to make the phenomenon easier to understand.

"It upsets all my calculations," he thought, "and I shall have to go
through the mill this time. I was able to baffle Mme. Fauville's
accusation and to foil the trick of the turquoise. But M. Desmalions will
never admit that this is a similar attempt and that Gaston Sauverand has
tried, as Marie Fauville did, to get me out of the way by compromising me
and procuring my arrest."

"Well," exclaimed M. Desmalions impatiently, "answer! Defend yourself!"

"No, Monsieur le Prefet, it