auffeur could not find words to answer this, the
sergeant added:

"Ah! My fine fellow! This is the way, then, you steal guns to help
the Germans to shoot the French? It's a mercy I spotted you!"

"But you are mad!--mad!--mad!" protested the chauffeur.... "You."...

The police sergeant cut him short.

"That is enough!... I am going to take you to Rouen!... You can
account for yourself to the magistrates!"

XXIII

LONDON AND PARIS

Juve and Henri de Loubersac passed the night on the quay. Daybreak
found them marching side by side, keeping their weary watch and ward.
De Loubersac had fallen silent; monosyllabic replies to Juve's remarks
had given place to no remarks at all. Juve looked at Henri and smiled.

"He has gone to the country of dreams: he sleeps standing."

In brotherly fashion, the policeman guided the young man towards the
shelter: settled him in, and left him. He was within call if needed;
meanwhile, he could have his sleep out.

Filling his pipe afresh, Juve resumed his walk along the quay. He was
uneasy; he was also in a bad humour. Why did Vinson and this priest
tarry on the way? Why should Corporal Vinson, bearer of this
compromising artillery piece, plant himself at a little hotel in Rouen
for the night? Had they been warned and stopped? Juve feared so.

"Evidently these men are acting for Fantomas," said he to himself:
"Fantomas must be watching the police: he knows them, but they do not
know him.... Suppose he knows of our arrival at Dieppe?... Suppose the
two traitors, being warned, have given our men the slip on the way?
Suppose this stop at Rouen was caused by the telegram they received at
the garage?... If our arrival here has been signalled, our watch will
be fruitless: neither Vinson nor the priest will show themselves on
this quay!"

As he kept his tireless vigil. Juve eyed the yacht swinging gently on
the rising tide. Could he find a pretext which would take him
aboard--justify a thorough investigation of boat and crew?... The
answer to more than one tormenting problem might lie hidden there!

Then Juve recalled his talk with de Loubersac. Had he been happily
inspired to speak so to him of the girl he loved, the enigmatic
Wilhelmine? Suppose de Loubersac, instead of questioning her, broke
with her?

"It would be abominable of me to spoil this child's love affair for
what are less than suspicions on my part--only the vaguest
hypothesis!"

Juve smoked and ruminated as h