Immediately an association of ideas worked in my brain. I remembered the Indian profile of my uncle, the unusual locks of Emma,--those of the madman which are so yellow, and the green fleece of the rat. Can Lerne be trying to graft hairy scalps on bald scalps? Can that be the enterprise?--and immediately I see that my idea is absurd. Nothing corroborates it, and then (this is a clinching argument) the madman has not been scalped, as in that case his scar would have described a complete circle. Why should he not have gone mad simply through a fall on the back of his head? At any rate, he is not a dangerous lunatic. He is harmless. He has rather a nice expression. His eyes now shine with a sort of intelligence. I am sure if I questioned him gently he would answer. Suppose I tried. Only a bolt closed the door on my side. I drew it deliberately, but before I got into the Yellow Room, the recluse dashed forward, head downwards--passed between my legs, knocked me down, and then escaped, with those dog’s yelps which the other night had made me take him for a practical joker. I was disconcerted by his agility. How could he make a fool of me that way? And what a strange idea, that of running between my legs! In spite of the suddenness of the adventure, just as quickly as he made me fall, I got on my legs again, dazed and astonished. Here is a lunatic let loose--a madman who will ruin me! “Oh! Nicolas, my boy, you are done for, done for! There is not the shadow of a doubt about it. Would it not be better to take French leave than chase the fugitive? What good can it do now? Ah! But Emma and the secret! Oh, damn it all! Let’s try and catch him!” and I am after the Unknown. I hope he won’t go near the gray buildings. No, thank goodness, he is taking the opposite direction! None the less, anybody can see us. The Deserter goes gamboling along in high spirits, and plunges in the wood. Thank heaven, the creature is no longer barking, and that is always something. Is that somebody? No, it is a statue. I must gain on him as soon as possible. If he only takes the wrong turn, we shall be spotted, and it is all up with me. How cheerful he seems, the brute! Curse him! If he goes on in this line, we shall be round the Park, and the chase will pass under the front of the gray buildings--under the very windows of Lerne. A blessing on the trees which still hide us. Quick.... That drawing-room door which I have left open! Quick! Quick.... But the fellow did not know he was being chased. He did not look behind him. His bare feet were hurting him and keeping him back. I am gaining on him....