"You mean the murders in the Rue Montaigne?"

"Pre-cisely."

"Pooh! A foolish fancy! How many red sunsets have there been since we found
those two poor women stretched out in their white-and-gold _salon_? Well, I
must get on. Come to-night at nine. There will be news for you."

"News for me," echoed the old man. "_Au revoir_, M. Paul," and he watched
the slender, well-knit figure as the detective moved across the Place
Notre-Dame, snapping his fingers playfully at the splendid animal that
bounded beside him and speaking to the dog in confidential friendliness.

"We'll show 'em, eh, Caesar?" And the dog answered with eager barking and
quick-wagging tail.

[Illustration: "'We'll show 'em, eh, Caesar?'"]

So these two companions advanced toward the great cathedral, directing
their steps to the left-hand portal under the Northern tower. Here they
paused before statues of various saints and angels that overhang the
blackened doorway while Coquenil said something to a professional beggar,
who straightway disappeared inside the church. Caesar, meantime, with
panting tongue, was eying the decapitated St. Denis, asking himself, one
would say, how even a saint could carry his head in his hands.

And presently there appeared a white-bearded sacristan in a three-cornered
hat of blue and gold and a gold-embroidered coat. For all his brave apparel
he was a small, mild-mannered person, with kindly brown eyes and a way of
smiling sadly as if he had forgotten how to laugh.

"Ah, Bonneton, my friend!" said Coquenil, and then, with a quizzical
glance: "My decorative friend!"

"Good evening, M. Paul," answered the other, while he patted the dog
affectionately. "Shall I take Caesar?"

"One moment; I have news for you." Then, while the other listened
anxiously, he told of his brilliant appointment in Rio Janeiro and of his
imminent departure. He was sailing for Brazil in three days.

"_Mon Dieu!_" murmured Bonneton in dismay. "Sailing for Brazil! So our
friends leave us. Of course I'm glad for you; it's a great chance,
but--_will_ you take Caesar?"

"I couldn't leave my dog, could I?" smiled Coquenil.

"Of course not! Of course not! And _such_ a dog! You've been kind to let
him guard the church since old Max died. Come, Caesar! Just a moment, M.
Paul." And with real emotion the sacristan led the dog away, leaving the
detective all unconscious that he had reached a critical moment in his
destiny.

How the course of events woul