“Enough!” Père Moche cut him short peremptorily, “I have told you, sir, what a true-hearted gentleman, what a man of honour, would not for one instant hesitate to do. On the basis of repairing the wrong by marriage, you will find us always ready to listen to you, to facilitate matters; otherwise, it is of no use attempting to see me again”—and the old man marched majestically for the door, leaving Ascott absolutely dumbfounded, the pen trembling between his fingers, his cheque-book lying open before his eyes. However, before finally going, M. Moche came to a halt on the threshold, and in a ringing voice, threw down a final challenge, a supreme work of menace and defiance: “We shall meet again, sir ... in the Court of Assize.” CHAPTER XVII FANTÔMAS MEETS FANTÔMAS In the drives of the Parc des Princes, as a rule deserted in the evening, the sombre ways that start from the fortifications and unite Paris with Boulogne-sur-Seine, ways bordered by sumptuous private mansions, elegant villas and blocks of luxurious flats, there was to-night an unaccustomed coming and going of motor-cars, broughams, and even democratic taxis. All these vehicles were making in the same direction; and all were swallowed up by the great gates that stood wide open before a private dwelling standing just half way down the grand avenue that runs between the city conservatories and the Bois. There for some months had been living the Grand Duchess Alexandra, bosom friend of the King of Hesse-Weimar, one of the most noted personalities of the foreign colony in Paris. No one, in fact, making any pretence to belong to society, could fail to be acquainted with the elegant and enterprising grand duchess. All knew her as a pretty woman, a wealthy woman, and report said a good and charitable one; many a time her witty sayings had raised a laugh in fashionable drawing rooms, while she enjoyed a reputation for Parisian _chic_ that was certainly not unjustified.