aving caught sight of
a lamp on the mantelpiece, took a box of matches from his pocket, and
proceeded to light it. At the moment when the match flared up, the
man, turning his back on the agent, could not see him: but the agent
could see the man distinctly. There could be no question that the man
lighting the lamp was someone the agent had not expected to meet, for
the emissary from the Second Board did the very reverse of what the
new-comer had done: he turned up the collar of his greatcoat!

The two men were now face to face in the lighted room.... There was a
silence which lasted some minutes: the agent broke it.

"You await Monsieur Fandor?" asked the agent.

"Yes, Monsieur, and you also, no doubt?"

"Quite so ... and I have more than an idea that we shall have to wait
a long time for him.... I saw him a short while ago, he had a piece of
pressing business on hand, and I do not think he will be back
before."... The agent was quite obviously trying to get the new-comer
to retire.

"Bah!" retorted the latter: "I am in no hurry." Whilst speaking the
unknown visitor stared strangely at the emissary of the Second Bureau:
he was thinking.

"Where have I seen that long beard--that remarkably heavy
moustache?... And then this bundle he has put down!... If I am not
jolly well mistaken, I know this individual!"

"Well, now," he said pleasantly, "since chance has thrown us into each
other's company, allow me to introduce myself, Monsieur! I am
Brigadier Juve of the detective force, from Police Headquarters."

"In that case, we might almost count ourselves colleagues, Monsieur! I
am the agent Vagualame, attached to the vigilance department of the
Secret Service!"

With that, Vagualame held out his hand to his colleague, Juve! It was
done with an unmistakable air of constraint.

It really seemed as if Juve had been awaiting this very action; for,
at the precise moment Vagualame held out his hand, the detective
extended his, and prolonged the hand-clasp as if he never meant to let
go--a regular hand-grip!

Juve was thinking hard.

"Vagualame! Here is this Vagualame at Fandor's!... It's
significant!... and then?... No, there's no doubt about it! This beard
is false! That moustache is artificial!... This individual is made
up!"

Perceiving that he was face to face with a disguised man, Juve was
about to hurl himself on this masquerader, when that individual,
forestalling the detective's movement, seized the initia