e King? thought Fandor. He couldn't have
jumped out of the window. The servant's staircase came into his mind,
but the door to that he found locked.

"It is useless for Monsieur to say more; kindly come with us to the
police station."

"After all, Monsieur was alone with the little lady," added the
concierge.

Fandor went rapidly to the dining-room. He would show the three places
at the table. But suddenly he remembered his refusal to take a plate.
There were only two places laid.

The two officers now held him gently by each arm and began to walk away
with him.

"Don't make any noise, please," they urged, "we must avoid all scandal."

Without quite understanding what was happening, Fandor obeyed.

CHAPTER IV

WHO DO THEY THINK I AM?

The first faint light of dawn was filtering through the dusty windows of
the police station.

Sergeant Masson, pushing aside the game of dominoes he had been playing
with his subordinate, declared:

"I must go and see the chief."

"At his house?" demanded the other in a tone of alarm.

"Yes; after all, if I catch it for waking him that won't be so bad as
having him come here at ten."

The sergeant rose and stretched himself. He had entire charge of the
Station and was responsible for all arrests. As a rule he felt himself
equal to the task, but this time the tragedy of the Rue Monceau and the
peculiar circumstances surrounding it seemed too much of a burden to
bear alone.

Ought he to have arrested the individual now at the Station? Had he been
sufficiently tactful? What was to be done now?

"Yes, I'm going to see the chief," he repeated, "besides, I shan't be
gone long. Anything that 'he' asks for let him have, you understand?"

It was about five-thirty, and the sky threatened snow. The air was fresh
and not too cold. A few milk carts were the only vehicles in the
streets. Porters were busy brushing off the sidewalks. Paris was making
her toilette. Sergeant Masson stopped at a small house in a quiet street
and mounted to the third floor. There he hesitated. The wife of the
chief was known for her sharp temper. However, there was nothing to be
done but ring, and this he did in a timid manner.

In a few moments he heard the door-chain withdrawn, and a woman's voice
cried:

"Who is there?"

"It is I, Madame, Sergeant Masson."

"Well, what do you want?"

"The chief is wanted at the Station right away."

At these words the door opened wide and the woman