himself. He appeared in a flowered dressing-gown, white flannel
trousers, his feet in embroidered slippers, and his face washed clean of
stains. Madame Jules, whose head projected beyond the casing of the door
in the next room, turned pale and dropped into a chair.

"What is the matter, madame?" cried the officer, springing toward her.

But Ferragus stretched forth an arm and flung the intruder back with so
sharp a thrust that Auguste fancied he had received a blow with an iron
bar full on his chest.

"Back! monsieur," said the man. "What do you want there? For five or six
days you have been roaming about the neighborhood. Are you a spy?"

"Are you Monsieur Ferragus?" said the baron.

"No, monsieur."

"Nevertheless," continued Auguste, "it is to you that I must return this
paper which you dropped in the gateway beneath which we both took refuge
from the rain."

While speaking and offering the letter to the man, Auguste did not
refrain from casting an eye around the room where Ferragus received him.
It was very well arranged, though simply. A fire burned on the hearth;
and near it was a table with food upon it, which was served more
sumptuously than agreed with the apparent conditions of the man and the
poorness of his lodging. On a sofa in the next room, which he could
see through the doorway, lay a heap of gold, and he heard a sound which
could be no other than that of a woman weeping.

"The paper belongs to me; I am much obliged to you," said the mysterious
man, turning away as if to make the baron understand that he must go.

Too curious himself to take much note of the deep examination of which
he was himself the object, Auguste did not see the half-magnetic glance
with which this strange being seemed to pierce him; had he encountered
that basilisk eye he might have felt the danger that encompassed him.
Too passionately excited to think of himself, Auguste bowed, went
down the stairs, and returned home, striving to find a meaning in the
connection of these three persons,--Ida, Ferragus, and Madame Jules;
an occupation equivalent to that of trying to arrange the many-cornered
bits of a Chinese puzzle without possessing the key to the game. But
Madame Jules had seen him, Madame Jules went there, Madame Jules had
lied to him. Maulincour determined to go and see her the next day. She
could not refuse his visit, for he was now her accomplice; he was hands
and feet in the mysterious affair, and she knew it. Alre