"I don't know. They worked the whole of one night, however. They had laid rails along the quay. I heard the trollies; and they were loading up. What with I don't know. And then, early in the morning, they unmoored." "Where did they go?" "Down stream, Mantes way." "Thanks, mate. That's what I wanted to know." Ten minutes later, when they reached the house, Patrice and Don Luis found the driver of the cab which Siméon Diodokis had taken after meeting Don Luis. As Don Luis expected, Siméon had told the man to go to a railway-station, the Gare Saint-Lazare, and there bought his ticket. "Where to?" "To Mantes!" CHAPTER XV THE BELLE HÉLÈNE "There's no mistake about it," said Patrice. "The information conveyed to M. Masseron that the gold had been sent away; the speed with which the work was carried out, at night, mechanically, by the people belonging to the boat; their alien nationality; the direction which they took: it all agrees. The probability is that, between the cellar into which the gold was shot and the place where it finished its journey, there was some spot where it used to remain concealed . . . unless the eighteen hundred bags can have awaited their despatch, slung one behind the other, along the wire. But that doesn't matter much. The great thing is to know that the _Belle Hélène_, hiding somewhere in the outskirts, lay waiting for the favorable opportunity. In the old days Essarès Bey, by way of precaution, used to send her a signal with the aid of that shower of sparks which I saw. This time old Siméon, who is continuing Essarès' work, no doubt on his own account, gave the crew notice; and the bags of gold are on their way to Rouen and Le Hâvre, where some steamer will take them over and carry them . . . eastwards. After all, forty or fifty tons, hidden in the hold under a layer of coal, is nothing. What do you say? That's it, isn't it? I feel positive about it. . . . Then we have Mantes, to which he took his ticket and for which the _Belle Hélène_ is bound. Could anything be clearer? Mantes, where he'll pick up his cargo of gold and go on board in some seafaring disguise, unknown and unseen. . . . Loot and looter disappearing together. It's as clear as daylight. Don't you agree?" Once again Don Luis did not answer. However, he must have acquiesced in Patrice's theories, for, after a minute, he declared: "Very well. I'll go to Mantes." And, turning to the chauffeur, "Hurry off to the garage," he said, "and come back in the six-cylinder. I want to be at Mantes in less than an hour. You, captain . . ." "I shall come with you." "And who will look after . . . ?" "Coralie? She's in no danger! Who can attack her now? Siméon has failed in his attempt and is thinking only of saving his own skin . . . and his bags of gold." "You insist, do you?" "Absolutely." "I don't know that you're wise. However, that's your affair. Let's go. By the way, though, one precaution." He raised his voice. "Ya-Bon!"