"All bodes well. The battle will be fought on the ground chosen by myself. I am bound to win. I shall get rid of my two adversaries and I shall find myself alone engaged in the Kesselbach case . . . alone, with two whacking trump-cards: Pierre Leduc and Steinweg. . . . Besides the king . . . that is to say, Bibi. Only, there's one thing: what is Altenheim up to? Obviously, he has a plan of attack of his own. On which side does he mean to attack me? And how does it come that he has not attacked me yet? It's rather startling. Can he have denounced me to the police?" He went along the little playground of the school. The pupils were at their lessons. He knocked at the door. "Ah, is that you?" said Mme. Ernemont, opening the door. "So you have left Geneviève in Paris?" "For me to do that, Geneviève would have to be in Paris," he replied. "So she has been, seeing that you sent for her." "What's that?" he exclaimed catching hold of her arm. "Why, you know better than I!" "I know nothing. . . . I know nothing. . . . Speak! . . ." "Didn't you write to Geneviève to meet you at the Gare Saint-Lazare?" "And did she go?" "Why, of course. . . . You were to lunch together at the Hôtel Ritz." "The letter. . . . Show me the letter." She went to fetch it and gave it to him. "But, wretched woman, couldn't you see that it was a forgery? The handwriting is a good imitation . . . but it's a forgery. . . . Any one can see that." He pressed his clenched hands to his temples with rage. "That's the move I was wondering about. Oh, the dirty scoundrel! He's attacking me through her . . . . But how does he know? No, he does not know. . . . He's tried it on twice now . . . and it's because of Geneviève, because he's taken a fancy to her. . . . Oh, not that! Never! Listen, Victoire, are you sure that she doesn't love him? . . . Oh, I'm losing my head! . . . Wait . . . wait! . . . I must think . . . this isn't the moment. . . ." He looked at his watch: "Twenty-five minutes to two. . . . I have time. . . . Idiot that I am! Time to do what? How do I know where she is?" He walked up and down like a madman; and his old nurse seemed astounded at seeing him so excited, with so little control of himself: "After all," she said, "there is nothing to prove that she did not suspect the trap at the last moment. . . ." "Where could she be?" "I don't know . . . perhaps at Mrs. Kesselbach's." "That's true . . . that's true. . . . You're right," he cried, filled with sudden hope. And he set out at a run for the House of Retreat. On the way, near the gate, he met the brothers Doudeville, who were entering the porter's lodge. The lodge looked out on the road; and this enabled them to watch the approaches to the Villa des Glycines. Without stopping, he went straight to the Pavillon de l'Impératrice, called Suzanne and told her to take him to Mrs. Kesselbach. "Geneviève?" he asked. "Geneviève?" "Yes; hasn't she been here?" "No, not for several days. . . ."