Camus’ house seemed built in conformity with his mind, secure, secret, containing many things unrevealable to the light of day, and based on a maze of dark passages offering a means of escape to the mind that knew them and bewilderment and despair to the mind that did not. Lavenne knew something of the catacombs, but not much. They lay outside his province. The Catacombs of Paris are to-day just as they were in the time of the fifteenth Louis, with this difference: they are more fully occupied, since they contain the bones of many of the victims of the Terror. This vast system of tunnelling which extends from the heart of Paris to the plain of Mont Souris is in reality a city where rock takes the place of houses, galleries the place of streets, dead men the place of citizens, and eternal darkness the place of day and night. It has been closed now for some years on account of the danger to explorers arising from the huge army of rats that have made it their camping-ground. Some years ago a man was attacked and eaten by rats in one of the galleries. Few inhabitants of the gay city of Paris ever give a thought to the city of Death that lies beneath their feet, and fewer still to the motto that is written on the walls of this vast tomb—just as it is written everywhere: “Remember, Man, that thou art Dust, and that unto Dust thou shalt return.” It was in this terrific place that Lavenne found himself, with the choice of exploring it to find a way out or returning to encounter Camus. BOOK IV CHAPTER I NEWS FROM VINCENNES One morning, four days later, the Comte de Sartines, working in his official room in the Hôtel de Sartines, was informed that a person wished to see him on urgent business. “What is the name?” asked he. “Brujon, monsieur. It is the steward of M. le Comte Camus.” “Show him in,” replied the Minister. He continued writing; then, when the visitor was announced, he turned in his chair, pen in hand. “Well, monsieur,” said the Minister of Police, “you wish to see me? What is your business?” “Monsieur,” said Brujon, “I am in great perplexity and distress. For three nights I have not slept, and the thing has worked so on my mind that I said to myself, I will go to Monsieur de Sartines, who is all-powerful, and place this case before him.” “Yes?” “Monsieur, four days ago, our pantry-man, Jumeau, who has charge of the silver belonging to my master, asked leave of absence on account of the illness of his mother; he introduced to me a young man, his cousin, named Jouve, in order that Jouve might take his place during the time of his absence. Jouve had an excellent reference, and I engaged him. Well, that night Jouve disappeared. At least, in the morning he was nowhere to be found. Yet he could not have left the house.” “And why could not he have left the house?”