The man with the hooded mask looked his accomplice up and down.

“I shall return when it pleases me to do so.” Then, with marvellous agility, without making a spring for it, with a quite extraordinary muscular flexibility and power, the stranger leaped onto the little wall, cleared the gate, and disappeared into the night.

Jules, with bent head, much perturbed, terribly anxious, slowly walked back to the house...

CHAPTER THIRTEEN : RUE RAFFET

Maray, second reporter of La Capitale, shook hands with Fandor.“Are you in a good humour, dear boy?”

“So-so.”

“Ah! Well, here is something which will cheer you up, I’m sure!... Here’s a letter from a lady for you... I found it in my pigeon-hole by mistake!”

Fandor smiled.

“From a lady?... You must be mistaken! How do you know it is?”

“By the handwriting, the paper, and so on – I’m not mistaken – am I ever?... Laughing, Maray threw down on Fandor’s table a small envelope with a deep black border.

“Yes, it is a letter from a woman,” said Fandor, as he picked it up: “From whom?... Ah... why yes!” With a hasty finger he tore open the envelope, whilst his colleague withdrew making a joking remark:

“Dear boy, I leave you to this tender missive: I should be annoyed with myself were I to interrupt your reflections.”

Fandor’s friend would have been surprised, if he could have seen the gloomy expression which the perusal of this presumed love-letter produced. Jérôme had turned to the signature – Elizabeth Dollon.

“What does she want with me?” he asked himself.

“After the extraordinary affair of rue du Quatre Septembre, one must suppose that she has arrived at some conclusion regarding the possible guilt of her brother... so long as she does not let her imagination run away with her, and, like the police, fancy that Jacques Dollon is still in the land of the living. The position the poor thing is in is a very cruel one!” Fandor had met Jacques Dollon’s young sister repeatedly; and, every time, he had been more and more troubled by the poor girl’s touching grief, as well as by her pathetic beauty, which had made a great impression on him... He began to read her letter.

“Dear Sir,

You have been so good to me in all my troubles, you have shown me such true sympathy, that I do not hesitate to ask your help once more.

Such an extraordinary thing has happened to me which I cannot account for at all, which, nevertheless, makes me think, more than ever, that my poor brother is living, innocent, and kept prisoner, perhaps by those who compel him to accept the responsibility for all those horrible crimes you know about.

Today, whilst I was in Paris on business, some people, of whom I know nothing, I need hardly say, whom not a soul in the private boarding-house where I am saw, these persons entered my room!