“Yes. Listen. There is a person here to whom I wish to afford complete certainty. Answer my questions exactly.” “Right.” “Where were you at noon to-day?” “At Headquarters as you asked me to be. I received the person whom Labonce and Tony brought from you.” “Where did we arrest him?” “In his lodgings in the Rue de Courcelles in the house exactly opposite Bregeac’s.” “Was he charged?” “Before me.” “Under what name?” “Baron de Limézy.” “And what did they charge him with?” “With being the leader of the train robbers in the express case.” “Have you seen him since this morning?” “Yes. Just now, when they were taking his measurements. They’re taking them still.” “Thanks, Phillipe, that’s what I wanted to know. Good-by.” He hung up the receivers and cried: “Well, my pretty Aurelie, you know where your savior is! In prison! Jailed!” “I knew it,” she said. He burst out laughing. “She knew it! And she went on expecting him just the same! That’s really funny. He has the whole of the police and the weight of the law on the top of him—he’s a rag, a tatter, a straw in the wind, a soap-bubble, and she’s expecting him! The walls of his prison are going to fall down! The warders are going to offer him a car! He’s here! He’s going to come down the chimney or through the ceiling!” Beside himself, he shook the young girl impassive and heedless of him, by the shoulder. “There’s nothing to be done, Aurelie! There’s no more hope! Your savior’s done for! The Baron’s under lock and key! And in an hour it will be your turn, pretty one! Cropped hair! Saint Lazare! The court! I’ve wept often enough for your beautiful eyes, you little crook; and it is to them——” The words were cut short on his tongue. Absorbed in Aurelie, he had forgotten Bregeac; and Bregeac gripped him by the throat from behind with two frenzied hands. The action had been involuntary. Marescal had gripped the girl’s shoulder; he came at him in a fury of revolt at such an outrage. Marescal staggered before his onset and the two men rolled on the floor. There was a furious fight. Both of them were beside themselves with rage, a rage aggravated by their fierce rivalry. Marescal was the more vigorous and stronger, but Bregeac was sustained by such a savage jealousy that the issue remained long in doubt. Aurelie gazed on them with horrified eyes; but she did not stir. Both of them were her enemies, equally detestable.