“Because, monsieur, all the doors are locked, and, what is more, barred on the inside, yet no bar had been removed. My master, when he comes in late, is always admitted by the _concierge_, who re-bars the door, all the other doors are equally barred, and that night I examined the fastenings myself. If Jouve had left the house by any door, how could he have replaced the bars?” “He may have had an accomplice in the house,” replied de Sartines, deeply interested and wondering what new move of Lavenne’s this might be, for Beauregard had told him of Lavenne’s suspicions as to Camus, and the whole business, in fact. “Yes, monsieur,” replied Brujon. “But no silver was taken, no valuables of any sort, why should he have entered the house just to leave it in that manner? Monsieur, I have a feeling that he is still in the house, though, God knows, I have searched diligently enough to find him.” “Well,” said de Sartines, “what can I do?” “I do not know, monsieur, but I thought it my duty to consult you.” “Have you told your master of this affair?” Brujon hesitated. “No, monsieur, I have not—he is of such a violent temper——.” “Precisely. But the fact remains that you have hidden the thing from him, and that fact would not calm the violence of his temper should you disclose the affair now. He might even do you an injury, so, for the sake of peace and your own skin, I would advise you to say nothing, but keep a vigilant watch. Should Jouve turn up, hidden anywhere, lock him up in a room, and send here at once and I will send a man to arrest him.” “Thank you, monsieur,” replied Brujon, who seemed relieved by Sartines’ manner and advice. “I will do what you say. Good day, your Excellency.” When he was gone Sartines rang a bell and ordered Beauregard to be sent to him. “_Ma foi_!” said Beauregard, “there is more in this than I can fathom. What can he be doing all these four days?” “Who knows?” replied the Minister. “But I am quite confident he has not been idle. He will turn up, and I dare swear he will bring with him the rope to hang Monsieur Camus. It has been spinning for a long time and is overdue. Now here is a commission for you. Since I can’t put hands on Lavenne for the business, go yourself to Vincennes and see how Rochefort is doing. They have had orders to make him comfortable, see that these orders have been carried out. We must keep him in a good temper.” “Yes, monsieur.” “Have a chat with him; and you might say that the Dubarrys are working in his interests to smooth matters with Choiseul—which, in fact, they are not.” “Yes, monsieur.” “See that he is allowed plenty of exercise—tennis and so forth, but always strictly guarded, for I know this devil of a Rochefort, one can’t count on his whims, and should prison gall him he may, even against his own interests, try to break out and fly into the claws of Choiseul.” “Yes, monsieur.” Beauregard went off on his mission, and as he left the room, the Vicomte Jean Dubarry was announced.