I stationed myself behind the curtain at the front parlour window. In a few minutes I saw a young German who lodged in the house rush up the area steps into the street, followed by Combrisson. They were both shouting and gesticulating loudly, and Combrisson seemed to be demanding money which the other refused. A few passers-by stopped to listen to the two foreigners, who danced around, growing ever more noisy; but Limpet and O'Brien stood firm. They looked at the combatants, but seemed to consider the matter as a joke, and only crossed over to our side of the way when they saw a crowd begin to assemble. The quarrel between Combrisson and his lodger began to flag when they saw that their object had failed, and the German soon walked off in the direction of Tottenham Court Road. I watched the detectives cross over to their former post of observation, and was just going to inform the comrades of the negative result of this manoeuvre when I saw Inspector Deveril coming down the street. For a second I stood paralysed with apprehension: all was up with my friends! Next moment I had climbed the four flights, and given the dreaded news. Matthieu rushed to the attic window. It gave on to a wide gutter which ran along several roofs. "This is my only means of escape. I will get into one of these other houses by the skylight, and escape at the front door whilst they are searching here." "And if any one tries to stop you?" I exclaimed. "So much the worse for them," he replied, clutching his revolver. He was already outside the window when Bonafede spoke, advising him to wait a minute whilst we saw what was going on. As soon as the police knocked, he could carry out his plan. To be noticed by them on the roof would be fatal to its success. At that moment Combrisson rushed in. "I cannot tell what has happened. Deveril spoke to those two spies and has walked off. The public-house has opened, Limpet has gone inside, and only O'Brien remains on guard." We all three went downstairs to watch proceedings, leaving Matthieu by the window, ready at a moment's notice to put his desperate project into execution. Sure enough, all was quiet in the street below; passers-by were hurrying home to their Sunday dinners, the smell of which pervaded the street and house, and O'Brien stood at the door of the opposite pub, leaning gracefully on his stick and gazing at the windows of our house. We stood watching for about a quarter of an hour, fully expecting to see the police appear; the room had gradually filled with the lodgers, all on the _qui vive_, and jabbering fluently in foreign tongues. As nobody came and all seemed quiet, Bonafede and I returned upstairs to reassure Matthieu. In a few minutes we heard a ring at the door.