apprehended, and taken back to the Bagne, would
carry with him that secret which Rodolph had so much interest in
discovering. Confiding in his address and courage, and trusting to
chance, he said to the Schoolmaster:

"Agreed, then; and we will not part company before evening."

"Then I'm your man. It is now two o'clock; it is some distance from here
to the Allee des Veuves; it is raining again in torrents; let us pay the
reckoning and take a coach."

"If we have a coach, I should like first to smoke a cigar."

"Why not?" said the Schoolmaster. "Finette does not mind the smell of
tobacco."

"Well, then, I'll go and fetch some cigars," said Rodolph, rising.

"Pray don't give yourself that trouble," said the Schoolmaster, stopping
him; "Finette will go."

Rodolph resumed his seat. The Schoolmaster had penetrated his design.
The Chouette went out.

"What a clever manager I have, haven't I?" said the ruffian; "and so
tractable, she would throw herself into the fire for me."

"Apropos of fire, it is not overwarm here," replied Rodolph, placing
both his hands under his blouse; and then, continuing his conversation
with the Schoolmaster, he took out a lead-pencil and a morsel of paper,
which he had in his waistcoat pocket, without being detected, and wrote
some words hastily, taking care to make his letters wide apart, so that
they might be more legible; for he wrote under his blouse, and without
seeing what he wrote.

This note escaped the penetration of the Schoolmaster; the next thing
was to enable it to reach its address.

Rodolph rose and went listlessly towards the window, and began to hum a
tune between his teeth, accompanying himself on the window glasses.

The Schoolmaster came up to the window and said to Rodolph:

"What tune are you playing?"

"I am playing '_Tu n'auras pas ma rose._'"

"And a very pretty tune it is. I should like to know if it would have
the effect of making any of the passers-by turn round?"

"I had no such intention."

"You are wrong, young man; for you are playing the tambourine on that
pane of glass with all your might. But I was thinking, the porter of
this house in the Allee des Veuves is perhaps a stout fellow; if he
resists, you have only your pistol, which is a noisy weapon, whilst a
tool like this (and he showed Rodolph the handle of his poniard) makes
no noise, and does not disturb anybody."

"Do you mean, then, to assassinate him?" exclaimed Rodolph. "If you have