drawn. This cupboard faced a bed that
filled almost the whole space of an alcove. On passing through the alcove
and reaching a room from which it was separated only by a slender
partition, to his great surprise, he recognized Florence's sitting-room.

This time, he knew where he was. The exit, which was not secret, as it
led to the Place du Palais-Bourbon, but nevertheless very safe, was that
which Sauverand generally used when Florence admitted him.

Don Luis therefore went through the entrance hall and down the steps and,
a little way before the pantry, came upon the cellar stairs. He ran down
these and soon recognized the low door that served to admit the
wine-casks. The daylight filtered in through a small, grated spy-hole. He
groped till he found the lock. Glad to have come to the end of his
expedition, he opened the door.

"Hang it all!" he growled, leaping back and clutching at the lock, which
he managed to fasten again.

Two policemen in uniform were guarding the exits two policemen who had
tried to seize him as he appeared.

Where did those two men come from? Had they prevented the escape of
Sauverand and Florence? But in that case Don Luis would have met the two
fugitives, as he had come by exactly the same road as they.

"No," he thought, "they effected their flight before the exit was
watched. But, by Jove! it's my turn to clear out; and that's not easy.
Shall I let myself be caught in my burrow like a rabbit?"

He went up the cellar stairs again, intending to hasten matters, to slip
into the courtyard through the outhouses, to jump into his motor, and to
clear a way for himself. But, when he was just reaching the yard, near
the coach-house, he saw four detectives, four of those whom he had
imprisoned, come up waving their arms and shouting. And he also became
aware of a regular uproar near the main gate and the porter's lodge. A
number of men were all talking together, raising their voices in violent
discussion.

Perhaps he might profit by this opportunity to steal outside under cover
of the disorder. At the risk of being seen, he put out his head. And what
he saw astounded him.

Gaston Sauverand stood with his back to the wall of the lodge, surrounded
by policemen and detectives who pushed and insulted him. The handcuffs
were on his wrists.

Gaston Sauverand a prisoner! What had happened between the two fugitives
and the police?

His heart wrung with anguish, he leaned out still farther. But