to Mazeroux.

"Sergeant, just look under that sofa between the windows."

Don Luis was serious. Mazeroux instinctively obeyed. Under the sofa was a
portmanteau.

"Sergeant, in ten minutes, when I have told my servants to go to bed,
carry the portmanteau to 143 _bis_ Rue de Rivoli, where I have taken a
small flat under the name of M. Lecocq."

"What for, Chief? What does it mean?"

"It means that, having no trustworthy person to carry that portmanteau
for me, I have been waiting for your visit for the last three days."

"Why, but--" stammered Mazeroux, in his confusion.

"Why but what?"

"Had you made up your mind to clear out?"

"Of course I had! But why hurry? The reason I placed you in the detective
office was that I might know what was being plotted against me. Since you
tell me that I'm in danger, I shall cut my stick."

And, as Mazeroux looked at him with increasing bewilderment, he tapped
him on the shoulder and said severely:

"You see, Sergeant, that it was not worth while to disguise yourself as a
cab-driver and betray your duty. You should never betray your duty,
Sergeant. Ask your own conscience: I am sure that it will judge you
according to your deserts."

Don Luis had spoken the truth. Recognizing how greatly the deaths of
Marie Fauville and Sauverand had altered the situation, he considered it
wise to move to a place of safety. His excuse for not doing so before was
that he hoped to receive news of Florence Levasseur either by letter or
by telephone. As the girl persisted in keeping silence, there was no
reason why Don Luis should risk an arrest which the course of events made
extremely probable.

And in fact his anticipations were correct. Next morning Mazeroux came to
the little flat in the Rue de Rivoli looking very spry.

"You've had a narrow escape, Chief. Weber heard this morning that the
bird had flown. He's simply furious! And you must confess that the tangle
is getting worse and worse. They're utterly at a loss at headquarters.
They don't even know how to set about prosecuting Florence Levasseur.

"You must have read about it in the papers. The examining magistrate
maintains that, as Fauville committed suicide and killed his son Edmond,
Florence Levasseur has nothing to do with the matter. In his opinion the
case is closed on that side. Well, he's a good one, the examining
magistrate! What about Gaston Sauverand's death? Isn't it as clear as
daylight that Florence had a hand in