"Most certainly," declared the official. "And I am very glad indeed that you have told me. I shall make a report to the Prefect of Police this morning, and tell him the name of my informant. The matter will be dealt with at once by the political department of the Surete." "The Baron will not be told who informed against him?" asked Adolphe anxiously. "Certainly not. But if Ralph Ansell is arrested, he will be charged with assisting foreign spies--a charge quite as serious as breaking into the Baron's house." "He hated the Baron because the latter had discharged him from his secret service." "What were his duties?" "Ah! that I do not quite know, except that he performed delicate missions, and sometimes went abroad, to Holland, England, Norway, and other places." "Ansell evidently knew the arrangements of the house--eh?" "He had been to see the Baron in secret many times." "And been well paid for his work, I suppose?" "Oh, yes; heavily paid." "Well," remarked the police official, "you may rest assured that the Baron will, in future, be well watched. We have no love for foreign spies in Paris, as you know." And then the commissary went on to question Carlier closely regarding his antecedents and his connection with the notorious Bonnemain gang, which had now been so fortunately broken up. To all his questions Adolphe replied quite frankly, concealing nothing, well knowing that his sentence would not be made heavier if he spoke openly. "I've heard stories of you for a long time, Carlier," the commissary said at last. "And I suppose we should not have met now, except for the blackguardly action of this man who posed as your friend." "No. I should have escaped, I expect, just as I have done so often that my friends call me 'The Eel,' on account, I suppose, of my slipperiness!" And he grimaced. The official laughed, and, with a word of thanks for the information concerning the Baron, both captor and prisoner passed back into the living-room, where the police-agents were concluding their searching investigations. Nothing had been found of an incriminating nature, and the commissary now saw that the man arrested had spoken the truth. While Ansell's house was being turned upside down and Adolphe and the commissary were exchanging confidences, "The American" was having a truly hot and exciting time, as indeed he richly deserved. Having entered the shaft, after securing the trap-door with its stout, iron bolt, he descended the rickety ladder to the cellar; thence, passing by a short tunnel, which Bonnemain had constructed with his own hands, he ascended a few rough wooden steps, and found himself in a lean-to outhouse close to a door in a high wall which led into a side street. Creeping to the door he drew the bolt, and in a moment was free. Turning to the left, he took to his heels, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, intending, if possible, to get away to the country.