ay a single word. Oh, please, please stop!"

He bent over her and smoothed her forehead, separating her mass of
golden hair.

"Let me do things my own way, Florence," he said softly.

She was silent, as though disarmed by the gentleness of his voice; and he
whispered more words which Don Luis could not hear and which seemed to
convince her.

Perenna had not moved. He stood opposite them with his arm outstretched
and his finger on the trigger, aiming at the enemy. When Sauverand
addressed Florence by her Christian name, he started from head to foot
and his finger trembled. What miracle kept him from shooting? By what
supreme effort of will did he stifle the jealous hatred that burnt him
like fire? And here was Sauverand daring to stroke Florence's hair!

He lowered his arm. He would kill them later, do with them what he
pleased, since they were in his power, and since nothing henceforth could
snatch them from his vengeance.

He took Sauverand's two revolvers and laid them in a drawer. Then he went
back to the door, intending to lock it. But hearing a sound on the
first-floor landing, he leant over the balusters. The butler was coming
upstairs with a tray in his hand.

"What is it now?"

"An urgent letter, sir, for Sergeant Mazeroux."

"Sergeant Mazeroux is with me. Give me the letter and don't let me be
disturbed again."

He tore open the envelope. The letter, hurriedly written in pencil and
signed by one of the inspectors on duty outside the house, contained
these words:

"Look out, Sergeant. Gaston Sauverand is in the house. Two people living
opposite say that the girl who is known hereabouts as the lady
housekeeper came in at half-past one, before we took up our posts. She
was next seen at the window of her lodge.

"A few moments after, a small, low door, used for the cellars and
situated under the lodge, was opened, evidently by her. Almost at the
same time a man entered the square, came along the wall, and slipped in
through the cellar door. According to the description it was Gaston
Sauverand. So look out, Sergeant. At the least alarm, at the first signal
from you, we shall come in."

Don Luis reflected. He now understood how the scoundrel had access to his
house, and how, hidden in the safest of retreats, he was able to escape
every attempt to find him. He was living under the roof of the very man
who had declared himself his most formidable adversary.

"Come on," he said to himself. "The fellow'