Well, that’s reassuring, thought Fandor. If these fine fellows take a cab, it is not with the intention of hurling my cage and me into the river – and that is what I feared most. They may be going to leave me in a cloak-room till called for; or they may pack me off as luggage to some unknown destination! Oh, well, I shall only be a traveller without a ticket and I shall be sure to find some way out of the difficulty! And then, what stuff for an article I shall have when I get back to La Capitale !... What must they be thinking at the offices! It’s forty-eight hours since I put foot in them! Never mind! When they find out...!” Fandor was listening intently; but the bandits had little to say, and, when they did speak, their voices were plainly disguised. Was it as a general precaution, or was it on account of Madame Bourrat?

But, unless they were known to her, why the necessity? If, however, she knew one or more of them personally, why then they must have disguised their faces and figures as well as their voices!... If only he could have a peep at them!

The sound of wheels made him suppose that Jules had succeeded in getting a cab at the Auteuil station. Then the trot-trot-trot of a horse became audible; a few moments later, a cab drew up at the edge of the pavement.

A hoarse voice was heard.

“It’s not a long journey I hope!” said the hoarse, grumbling voice of the cabman.

“To Police Headquarters,” replied the fake police inspector.

We shall see about that! thought Fandor. That address is to throw dust in Madame Bourrat’s eyes. They will change their destination on the way, I’ll bet on it!... The brutes! Are they going to jam my cage and me on to the seat? Fandor asked himself, for they had seized the trunk and were beginning to lift it up... Am I to be stuck upside down beside the driver – I don’t fancy so!... We must weigh at least ninety kilos, as I weigh seventy myself!

Fandor’s mind was soon made easy on that score.

After a fruitless attempt to hoist the trunk to the box seat, they decided to put it onto the back seat of the cab. One of the bandits planted himself on the little folding seat opposite the trunk: the other scoundrel mounted to the box seat next the driver.

The two imposters took leave of Madame Bourrat.

The rickety old vehicle started off. Presently, Fandor heard what he had expected to hear: one of his captors told the driver to take them to some other address than Police Headquarters. Owing to the rattling of the ramshackle cab – it lacked rubber tyres – Fandor, though listening with straining ears, could not hear one word distinctly.

Soon pale gleams of light began to filter through the wickerwork: dawn was near.