“Open the door,” said Bregeac again. On the doorstep stood Marescal with three men. She leaned against the bannisters of the staircase and groaned in such a low voice that Bregeac alone heard it: “Heavens! It is not him!” Confronted with his subordinate, Bregeac drew himself to his full height. “What do you want, Monsieur? I have forbidden you the house,” he said sternly. “I am here on an official matter, Monsieur le Directeur. By order of the Minister,” he said with a snarl. “An order which concerns me?” “Which concerns you and mademoiselle too,” said Marescal. “And which compels you to secure the help of three men?” Marescal laughed and said: “Goodness, no. That was a mere accident. They were taking a walk this way, we fell into conversation, and they came along with me. There’s nothing to be put out about.” He entered and caught sight of the two suit-cases. “Ah, a short journey. What? A minute later and my trouble would have been wasted.” “Monsieur Marescal,” said Bregeac firmly, “if you have a mission to perform—a communication to make to me, make it at once and here.” “Don’t let’s have a scandal, Bregeac. And don’t let’s have any nonsense. No one knows anything so far, not even my men. Let’s talk things over in your study,” said Marescal in threatening accents. “No one knows anything about what, Monsieur?” said Bregeac. “About what is happening; and it’s serious enough. If your step-daughter has not told you about it, perhaps she will admit that an explanation without witnesses would be preferable. What do you think, Mademoiselle?” said Marescal in a jeering tone. Pale as death, still holding on to the bannisters, Aurelie seemed on the point of fainting. Bregeac slipped an arm round her and held her up. “Come on up,” he said, helping her up the stairs. She let him do so. Marescal told his men to enter. “Don’t stir out of the hall, any of you, and don’t let any one come in, or go out,” he said. He turned to Valentine and added: “Go into the kitchen and stay there.” Valentine went. “If there’s any trouble upstairs, I’ll whistle,” he said to his men. “And Sauvinoux will come to the rescue. Do you understand?” “We understand,” said Labonce. “Don’t make any mistake.” “We shan’t make any mistake, chief. You know that we’re not novices. And that we’ll stand by you to a man,” said Sauvinoux. “Even against Bregeac?” “Rather.” “Right. Give me the bottle, Tony.” He took the bottle, or rather the cardboard case which held it, and went briskly up the stairs, assured that his orders would be obeyed, and entered the study out of which he had been so ignominiously turned six months before, with the air of a master. What a victory for him! And with what an insolence did he make his triumph plain! He walked round the study, with his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, looking at the photographs which hung upon the wall, photographs of Aurelie, as a baby, a little girl, and a young girl.