At last he turned round and came and sat beside Essarès. In his hands he held a bundle of four pocket-books, short but extremely bulky and bound together with a canvas strap. He unfastened the buckle of the strap and opened one of the pocket-books. His knees shook under their precious burden, and, when he had taken a huge sheaf of notes from one of the compartments, his hands were like the hands of a very old man trembling with fever. "Thousand-franc notes," he murmured. "Ten packets of thousand-franc notes." Brutally, like men prepared to fight one another, each of the other three laid hold of a pocket-book, felt inside and mumbled: "Ten packets . . . they're all there. . . . Thousand-franc notes . . ." And one of them forthwith cried, in a choking voice: "Let's clear out! . . . Let's go!" A sudden fear was sending them off their heads. They could not imagine that Essarès would hand over such a fortune to them unless he had some plan which would enable him to recover it before they had left the room. That was a certainty. The ceiling would come down on their heads. The walls would close up and crush them to death, while sparing their unfathomable adversary. Nor had Patrice Belval any doubt of it. The disaster was preparing. Essarès' revenge was inevitably at hand. A man like him, a fighter as able as he appeared to be, does not so easily surrender four million francs if he has not some scheme at the back of his head. Patrice felt himself breathing heavily. His present excitement was more violent than any with which he had thrilled since the very beginning of the tragic scenes which he had been witnessing; and he saw that Coralie's face was as anxious as his own. Meanwhile Bournef partially recovered his composure and, holding back his companions, said: "Don't be such fools! He would be capable, with old Siméon, of releasing himself and running after us." Using only one hand, for the other was clutching a pocket-book, all four fastened Essarès' arm to the chair, while he protested angrily: "You idiots! You came here to rob me of a secret of immense importance, as you well knew, and you lose your heads over a trifle of four millions. Say what you like, the colonel had more backbone than that!" They gagged him once more and Bournef gave him a smashing blow with his fist which laid him unconscious. "That makes our retreat safe," said Bournef. "What about the colonel?" asked one of the others. "Are we to leave him here?" "Why not?" But apparently he thought this unwise; for he added: "On second thoughts, no. It's not to our interest to compromise Essarès any further. What we must do, Essarès as well as ourselves, is to make ourselves scarce as fast as we can, before that damned letter of the colonel's is delivered at headquarters, say before twelve o'clock in the day." "Then what do you suggest?" "We'll take the colonel with us in the motor and drop him anywhere. The police must make what they can of it." "And his papers?"