his morning," he smiled. "Since then I--well, as my
friend Gibelin says, I haven't wasted my time."

"Your friend Gibelin?" repeated Alice, not understanding.

Coquenil smiled grimly. "He is an amiable person for whom I am preparing
a--a little surprise."

"Oh! And what about the chest of drawers?"

"It's about one particular drawer, the small upper one on the right-hand
side--better write that down."

"The small upper drawer on the right-hand side," repeated Alice.

"I find that M. Kittredge _always_ kept this drawer locked. He seems to be
a methodical person, and I want to know if he remembers opening it a few
days ago and finding, it unlocked. Have you got that?"

"Yes."

"Good! Oh, one thing more. Find out if M. Kittredge ever suffers from
rheumatism or gout."

The girl smiled. "Of course he doesn't; he is only twenty-eight."

"Please do not take this lightly, mademoiselle," the detective chided
gently. "It is perhaps the most important point of all--his release from
prison may depend on it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not taking it lightly, indeed I'm not," and, with tears
in her eyes, Alice assured M. Paul that she fully realized the importance
of this mission and would spare no effort to make it successful.

A few moments later she hurried away, buoyed up by the thought that she was
not only to see her lover but to serve him.

It was after six when Alice left the circular railway at the Montrouge
station. She was in a remote and unfamiliar part of Paris, the region of
the catacombs and the Gobelin tapestry works, and, although M. Paul had
given her precise instructions, she wandered about for some time among
streets of hospitals and convents until at last she came to an open place
where she recognized Bartholdi's famous Belfort lion. Then she knew her
way, and hurrying along the Boulevard Arago, she came presently to the
gloomy mass of the Sante prison, which, with its diverging wings and
galleries, spreads out like a great gray spider in the triangular space
between the Rue Humboldt, the Rue de la Sante and the Boulevard Arago.

A kind-faced policeman pointed out a massive stone archway where she must
enter, and passing here, beside a stolid soldier in his sentry box, she
came presently to a black iron door in front of which were waiting two
yellow-and-black prison vans, windowless. In this prison door were four
glass-covered observation holes, and through these Alice saw a guard
within, who, as she li