ked
himself whether the Second Bureau had been warned of the part he had
played with regard to Vinson? Was he not being watched and shadowed in
the hope of running the treacherous corporal to earth? If the Second
Bureau had decided to arrest Fandor, he certainly would not escape. "I
shall be jailed within twenty-four hours," thought our journalist.
"This branch of the detective service is so marvellously organised,
that should the heads of it look upon me as Vinson's accomplice they
will arrest me before I have time to parry the blow. In that case, the
band of traitors I pursue, and am on the point of unearthing, will
gain enough time to take their bearings, make all their arrangements,
and disappear, without counting that this miserable Vinson, who relies
on my help, will be caught at once."

Suddenly Fandor left his post of observation, shut his window, and
went to the telephone.

"I must put Juve in possession of all the facts up to now, then, if I
am caught, Juve will see to it that I am set free--he will put his
heart into it, I know."

Unfortunately, it was not Juve who was at the other end of the line.
He had gone out; his old servant took Fandor's message.

"Tell Monsieur Juve directly he comes in that I cannot go out, but
that I absolutely must see him. Tell him the matter is most urgent."

* * * * *

It was ten o'clock at night. Corporal Vinson was dressing in haste.

"Plague take it!" he cried. "I mustn't lose a moment if I don't want
to miss my train."

Vinson was dressing in Fandor's bedroom. There must have been a time
when Corporal Vinson was very proud of putting on the uniform of a
French soldier; but at this particular moment his feelings were the
very opposite. However, he clad himself in this same uniform with
lightning rapidity. Careful of his smart appearance, the corporal
examined himself in the glass: the reflection was so satisfactory that
he broke into smiles--undoubtedly his uniform suited him.

There was a violent ring at the door-bell. Vinson jumped: he began to
tremble.

"Who can it be at this hour?" he asked himself. "I was sure something
would happen! I was bound to catch it somehow!"

Vinson dared not risk a movement: he stood rigid, motionless. Whoever
was at the door must be led to think that there was not a living soul
in Fandor's flat.

Again the bell rang, a violent ring: it was the ring of someone who
does not mean to go away, who know