"Didn't you write to Genevieve to meet you at the Gare Saint-Lazare?"

"And did she go?"

"Why, of course... . You were to lunch together at the Hotel Ritz."

"The letter... . Show me the letter."

She went to fetch it and gave it to him.

"But, wretched woman, couldn't you see that it was a forgery? The handwriting is a good imitation ... but it's a forgery... . Any one can see that." He pressed his clenched hands to his temples with rage.

"That's the move I was wondering about. Oh, the dirty scoundrel! He's attacking me through her ... . But how does he know? No, he does not know... . He's tried it on twice now ... and it's because of Genevieve, because he's taken a fancy to her... . Oh, not that! Never!

Listen, Victoire, are you sure that she doesn't love him? ... Oh, I'm losing my head! ... Wait ... wait! ... I must think ... this isn't the moment... ."

He looked at his watch:

"Twenty-five minutes to two... . I have time... . Idiot that I am!

Time to do what? How do I know where she is?"

He walked up and down like a madman; and his old nurse seemed astounded at seeing him so excited, with so little control of himself:

"After all," she said, "there is nothing to prove that she did not suspect the trap at the last moment... ."

"Where could she be?"

"I don't know ... perhaps at Mrs. Kesselbach's."

"That's true ... that's true... . You're right," he cried, filled with sudden hope.

And he set out at a run for the House of Retreat.

On the way, near the gate, he met the brothers Doudeville, who were entering the porter's lodge. The lodge looked out on the road; and this enabled them to watch the approaches to the Villa des Glycines. Without stopping, he went straight to the Pavillon de l'Imperatrice, called Suzanne and told her to take him to Mrs. Kesselbach.

"Genevieve?" he asked.

"Genevieve?"

"Yes; hasn't she been here?"

"No, not for several days... ."

"But she is to come, is she not?"

"Do you think so?"

"Why, I'm certain of it. Where do you think she is? Can you remember?

"It's no use my trying. I assure you that Genevieve and I had made no arrangement to see each other." And, suddenly alarmed: "But you're not anxious, are you? Has anything happened to Genevieve?"

"No, nothing."

He had already left the room. An idea had occurred to him. Suppose Altenheim were not at the Villa des Glycines? Suppose the hour of the meeting had been changed!

"I must see him," he said to himself. "I must, at all costs."

And he ran along with a disordered air, indifferent to everything. But, in front of the lodge, he at once recovered his composure: he had caught sight of the deputy-chief of the detective-service talking to the brothers Doudeville in the garden.

Had he commanded his usual acute discernment, he would have perceived the little start which M. Weber gave as he approached; but he saw nothing:

"M. Weber, I believe?" he asked.

"Yes... . To whom have I the honor ... ?"

"Prince Sernine."

"Ah, very good! Monsieur le Prefet de Police has told me of the great service which you are doing us, monsieur."

"That service will not be complete until I have handed the ruffians over to you."

"That won't take long. I believe that one of those ruffians has just gone in; a powerful-looking man, with a swarthy complexion... ."

"Yes, that's Baron Altenheim. Are your men here, M. Weber?"

"Yes, concealed along the road, at two hundred yards from this."

"Well, M. Weber, it seems to me that you might collect them and bring them to this lodge. From here we will go to the villa. As Baron Altenheim knows me, I presume they will open the door to me and I will go in ... with you."

"It is an excellent plan," said M. Weber. "I shall come back at once."

He left the garden and walked down the road, in the opposite direction to the Villa des Glycines.

Sernine quickly took one of the brothers Doudeville by the arm:

"Run after him, Jacques ... keep him engaged ... long enough for me to get inside the Glycines... . And then delay the attack as long as you can... . Invent pretexts... . I shall want ten minutes... .

Let the villa be surrounded ... but not entered. And you, Jean, go and post yourself in the Pavillon Hortense, at the entrance to the underground passage. If the baron tries to go out that way, break his head."

The Doudevilles moved away, as ordered. The prince slipped out and ran to a tall gate, barred with iron, which was the entrance to the Glycines.

Should he ring? ...

There was no one in sight. With one bound, he leapt upon the gate, placing his foot on the lock; and, hanging on to the bars, getting a purchase with his knees and hoisting himself up with his wrists, he managed, at the risk of falling on the sharp points of the bars, to climb over the gate and jump down.

He found a paved courtyard, which he crossed briskly, and mounted the steps of a pillared peristyle, on which the windows looked out. These were all closed to the very top, with full shutters. As he stood thinking how he should make his way into the house, the door was half opened, with a noise of iron that reminded him of the door in the Villa Dupont, and Altenheim appeared:

"I say, prince, is that the way you trespass on private property? I shall be forced to call in the gendarmes, my dear fellow!"

Sernine caught him by the throat and, throwing him down on a bench:

"Genevieve? ... Where is Genevieve? If you don't tell me what you've done with her, you villain... ."