No. 11, did you say?"

Brett well knew how to conduct the attack upon this lady. His voice fell
to a determined note, his eyes looked gravely into hers as he
answered--"It is useless to pretend that you do not understand me. You
are losing moments worth gold, perhaps diamonds! Within a few minutes
the police will be here, and then it will be too late. Help me first,
and I will let the police take care of themselves. Refuse me your
assistance, and I will leave you and your friends to the mercy of the
district _commissaire_."

A dangerous light leaped into the woman's eyes at this direct challenge.

"Monsieur is pleased to speak in riddles," she said. "This is a
restaurant. We can execute your orders, but we are not skilled in acting
charades. You will find better performers in the booths out there"; and
she swept her hands scornfully towards the boulevard, with its medley of
tents, stalls, and merry-go-rounds.

Brett smiled. "You are a stupid woman," he said. "You think you are
serving your friends by adopting this tone. In effect you are bringing
them to the guillotine. Now listen. If I leave you without further words
you do not see me again. You will know nothing of what is going on until
the police have lodged you in a cell. Neither you nor your associates
can escape. I promise nothing, but perhaps if you tell me what I want to
know there may be a chance for you. Otherwise there is none. Shall I
go?"

And he turned as if to approach the door.

For an instant the woman hesitated, and Brett thought that he had
scored.

"Wait," she said, lowering her voice, though there was still the menace
of subdued passion in her accents. "Who is your friend?"

"A gentleman whose identity in no way concerns you. You must deal with
me, and it will be better if you ask who I am."

"I know," she said, laconically. "Come this way, both of you."

She raised a flap-door located at one side of the counter. Brett
followed her into a passage behind the doorway that led into the bar.
Fairholme succeeded him.

The trio passed rapidly through a door at the end of the passage, and
quickly found themselves in a long, low room, usually devoted to
billiards. The place was dark and smelled evilly of stale tobacco.
Daylight penetrated but feebly through the red blinds that blocked up
three windows on one side. The woman drew two of these blinds, and thus
illuminated the interior. The windows opened on to a yard, and the place
was thorough