At last Marescal, who had freed himself from the strangling grip of Bregeac’s murderous hands, was able to make an effort to get at the revolver in his hip pocket. But Bregeac, seeing what he would be at, so twisted his right arm that it was paralyzed. But with his left hand Marescal got hold of his whistle which was hanging on a chain in his breast pocket and blew a shrill call on it. Bregeac tried once more with all his might to get his adversary by the throat. The door was flung open; a man came bounding into the room, and flung himself on to the struggling figures. Almost on the instant Marescal found himself free and Bregeac was looking down the barrel of a revolver about ten inches from his eyes. “Bravo Sauvinoux!” cried Marescal. “I shan’t forget that little bit of help in a hurry, my lad!” His rage was still so furious that he was cowardly enough to spit in Bregeac’s face. “You cad! You blackguard! Did you think you were going to dispose of me as easily as that?” he shouted. “Your resignation, and at once! The Minister demands it—I have it in my pocket! You’ve only to sign it!” He produced a paper from his pocket. “Your resignation—and Aurelie’s confession. I’ve written it out ready. Sign it, Aurelie. Come, read it. ‘I confess that I took part in the crime on the express, on the 26th of last April. That I fired at the brothers Loubeaux. I confess that—’ In fact it’s a resumé of the whole story. You needn’t bother to read it. Sign! Don’t waste any more time!” He dipped a pen into the ink-pot and tried to force it between her fingers. Slowly she pushed the hand of the Commissary aside, took the pen and signed, as Marescal had willed her to sign, without taking the trouble to read it. The handwriting was steady. Her hand did not tremble. “Ah,” he said with a deep sigh of relief. “That’s done. I did not think that I could get it nearly so quickly. It’s a good thing, Aurelie, that you understood the situation. And now you, Bregeac.” Bregeac shook his head and refused. “What!” cried Marescal. “You refuse. Do you fancy that you can keep your post? Perhaps you think that you will be promoted. What? Promoted as the step-father of a criminal? That’s good, that is. And you would continue to give me orders, you, Bregeac? You’re a funny chap. Do you suppose that this scandal won’t be enough to clear you out, that to-morrow, when people read in the papers of the arrest of this child, you won’t be obliged to resign?” Bregeac’s fingers closed upon the pen held out to him. He read the letter of resignation and hesitated. Aurelie said to him: “Sign, Monsieur.” He signed. “There we are!” said Marescal, pocketing the two papers—the confession and the resignation. “My chief is down and out; his post is empty; and it has been promised to me. And the girl will be in prison which little by little cures me of the love which was gnawing my heart.” He said this with a cold cynicism, that bared the bottom of his vile soul.