Fandor went off, followed by the detective. When they were quite away from everyone, Fandor turned quickly to his friend. "Well, Juve?" "Nothing, so far...." "You have not run in the whole gang?" "Not I!" replied Juve. "These are only the supernumeraries, and there are some of them out of my reach!... Look here, Fandor," continued Juve in a low tone. "You will see someone in court presently whose presence will astonish you--it is an aviator--the aviator Emilet.... Well, my boy, I have a notion that this fellow is no stranger to all these goings-on!... But patience!... besides, you know, Fandor, it's not my way of doing things to put the bracelets on mediocrities such as he: I fly higher!... Good-bye. Shall see you later on!" Fandor asked, in a low tone: "Shall I remain for the sitting?" "Yes," said Juve. "It is quite likely that I shall not be present; and it would be a good thing if you were to get a general idea of this affair: you may pick up some useful information." "Juve, I very much wish to have a longer talk with you--there are things I want to say--to tell you!" Steps could be heard coming in their direction: the two men separated at once; but Juve had just time to say: "This evening then, at eight, I shall come to your place, Fandor. Expect me!" Half an hour later, Fandor entered the court room.... The speech for the Crown had just been concluded. The arrest of these smugglers, now on their trial, had made some stir, about five months ago. Public opinion had been aroused almost to fever pitch, when it became known that the accused had, for nearly two years past, succeeded in getting through into Paris, without having paid town dues, quantities of the most highly taxed articles, and thus had accumulated a large store of riches in contraband goods and money. They owed their arrest to the betrayal of a wretched dealer, who was dissatisfied with his remuneration. The journalists had, after their manner, amplified all the details, had exaggerated the realities, and had given a romantic colouring to the various incidents in the varied lives and adventures of this daring band of smugglers. They had been represented as perfect gentlemen, who had formed themselves into a marvellously organised Black Band, led by a chief having right of life or death over them: a band fertile in tricks and extraordinary stratagems, who massed their plunder in immense vaults and cellars under the very heart of Paris, in the Isle of the Cite, and communicating with the river, which, under the eyes of the police, served to bear the barges laden with their booty. Cellars and vaults in the Isle of the Cite! "Well," thought Fandor, "men organised into such a powerful association in this part of Paris might well put one on the track of strange discoveries regarding the mysterious events connected with the Jacques Dollon affair!"