"There are fifty louis in the bank. Any bids?" "A hundred louis," said Altenheim. Sernine looked at his watch. Ten o'clock. The Doudevilles had not returned. The search, therefore, had been fruitless. "Banco," he said. Altenheim sat down and dealt the cards: "I give." "No." "Seven." "Six. I lose," said Sernine. "Shall I double the stakes?" "Very well," said the baron. He dealt out the cards. "Eight," said Sernine. "Nine," said the baron, laying his cards down. Sernine turned on his heels, muttering: "That costs me three hundred louis, but I don't mind; it fixes him here." Ten minutes later his motor set him down in front of 29, Villa Dupont; and he found the Doudevilles and their men collected in the hall: "Have you hunted out the old boy?" "No." "Dash it! But he must be somewhere or other. Where are the four servants?" "Over there, in the pantry, tied up, with the cook as well." "Good. I would as soon they did not see me. Go all you others. Jean, stay outside and keep watch: Jacques, show me over the house." He quickly ran through the cellar, the ground floor, the first and second floors and the attic. He practically stopped nowhere, knowing that he would not discover in a few minutes what his men had not been able to discover in three hours. But he carefully noted the shape and the arrangement of the rooms, and looked for some little detail which would put him on the scent. When he had finished, he returned to a bedroom which Doudeville had told him was Altenheim's, and examined it attentively: "This will do," he said, raising a curtain that concealed a dark closet, full of clothes. "From here I can see the whole of the room." "But if the baron searches the house?" "Why should he?" "He will know that we have been here, through his servants." "Yes, but he will never dream that one of us is putting up here for the night. He will think that the attempt failed, that is all, so I shall stay." "And how will you get out?" "Oh, that's asking me more than I can tell you! The great thing was to get in. Here I am, and here I stay. Go, Doudeville, and shut the doors as you go." He sat down on a little box at the back of the cupboard. Four rows of hanging clothes protected him. Except in the case of a close investigation, he was evidently quite safe. Two hours passed. He heard the dull sound of a horse's hoofs and the tinkling of a collar-bell. A carriage stopped, the front door slammed and almost immediately he heard voices, exclamations, a regular outcry that increased, probably, as each of the prisoners was released from his gag.