"Oh, by the way, Marcel," he added as that little gentleman appeared in the passage, "just put on your hat and take a walk with me." The two gentlemen hurried out of the house, and walked slowly arm in arm up and down the garden. "Marcel, I want to take you into my confidence. Will you do me a special favour?" said Villebois, suddenly pausing in his walk and facing his companion. "Certainly," replied Marcel, who loved nothing better than an adventure. "Command me and I will obey." "Well then, I want you to go to the Circle des Italiens in the Avenue de l'Opera and ask to see Pierre. Tell him everything is discovered, and the game is up. He must leave Paris to-night, and disappear from France as quickly as possible. It is absolutely necessary for him to leave at once, as an order for his arrest may be issued at any moment. If his father learns of it, it will certainly kill him, and the disgrace and worry will probably finish me as well." Villebois slowly walked back to his house, while Marcel ran out into the street and hailing a cab drove off towards the city. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 14: For the shadow--yea verily the shadow (of death) is worse than Death itself.] [Footnote 15: One must strike the iron while it is hot.] CHAPTER XVII EMILE VISITS HIS FRIEND PIERRE WITH MOST UNPLEASANT CONSEQUENCES "Tout mal arrive avec des ailes." Voltaire. "Ben provide i'l cielo, Ch' uom per delitti mai lieto non sia."[16] It was late at night when Pierre left the café and started out for his chambers in blissful ignorance that he was being closely followed by a man. The night was clear, and the innumerable shops and cafés lit up, gave the boulevard that bright and animated appearance which is one of the peculiar charms of the gay city. He pulled out his cigarette case, a silver-gilt one with his monogram in blue enamel, a new-year's gift from Payot, and discovered it empty. Pierre got out of his fiacre, and dismissing the cocher turned into one of the numerous tobacco shops, where he speedily refilled it, and was in the act of lifting it up when the man, no other than Emile Levasseur, the waiter and lover of the girl whom he had insulted at Maxim's, dexterously extracted a pocket-book from Pierre's breast pocket. Long practice had made him an expert at this game, and watching his opportunity until Pierre had turned down one of the side streets, where he could be more easily followed, he opened it under one of the street lamps, and hastily looked through its contents. After abstracting a billet de banque for five hundred francs which he transferred to his own pocket to meet any emergencies that might arise, together with a few visiting cards which were evidently Pierre's--seeing that they all bore the same address--he left the rest of the notes in the pocket-book, and continued to follow Pierre. At length he observed Pierre take out his latch key, and running after him with the pocket-book in his hand took off his hat with a polite bow.