s that the delay in opening the door
is deliberate.

"Plague take that porter!" murmured the corporal. "I'll wager."...

Again the bell rang violently.

Something had to be done. Drops of sweat rolled down the corporal's
face.

"By jingo, this business is going to end very badly!"

The young soldier rapidly drew off his shoes and tiptoed to the
vestibule. Through the keyhole he looked to see who was ringing for
the fourth time, and more violently than ever.

No sooner had Vinson looked than he swore softly.

"Good Heavens! What I feared! It's an agent from the Second Bureau!...
I recognise him!... I am sold--there's not a doubt of it!"

Ghastly from terror, Vinson watched the visitor put his hand in his
pocket, then choose a key from his bunch.

"Ah! This individual has a master-key! And I--I have an idea!"

Vinson leaped backwards, just as the agent was putting his key in the
lock, and rushed towards Fandor's study. He locked the door at the
precise moment the agent entered the flat.

"Halt!" cried he: Vinson's movements had been heard.

The corporal's answer was to double-lock the door. "What you are
doing there is childish!" cried the agent. "I have master-keys! Give
yourself up!" Taking a fresh key, he unlocked the door Vinson had just
closed. The corporal was not in the room. The agent rushed to another
door which led from the study to the dining-room. He opened that door,
entered the dining-room; it was empty also: Vinson had fled to the
room adjoining.

"You cannot keep at it!" cried the agent. "You see the doors cannot
offer a moment's resistance! I shall corner you!"

But Vinson, retreating from room to room, aimed at drawing on his
pursuer to the last room of the flat. Directly the agent entered the
dining-room, Vinson, quick as lightning, leapt into the corridor,
crossed the vestibule at a bound, opened the door leading to the
staircase, slamming it behind him.

On the landing he hesitated a second.

"Must he go down the stairs?"

The agent would follow in his track, the pursuit would develop, for,
seeing a soldier in uniform racing along, the passers-by would join in
the running: it would be fatal--Vinson would be caught.

"I'll double back," thought he, "back and up!"

Hurriedly he mounted the next flight of stairs, gaining the third
story. No sooner had he reached the landing which dominated Fandor's
flat than the agent, in his turn, reached the staircase and ran to the
balustrade