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Updated: June 25, 2025
And there's a good deal more which we'll explain to you, Lupin, in good time. You'll have plenty of fun, I assure you." Don Luis murmured: "My poor Mazeroux!" Then, raising his voice, he said: "Don't cry, old chap. It's just a matter of the remainder of the night. Yes, I'll share my cards with you and we'll turn the king and mark game in a very few hours. Don't cry.
He has gone to earth in some hiding-hole in his house, above the study; and his fatigue and privations seem to have unsettled him a little. Mazeroux, go and ferret him out unless this is just some fresh trick on his part. You have your warrant." Sergeant Mazeroux went up to M. Desmalions. His face was pallid. "Monsieur le Préfet, did he tell you that we were going to be blown up?" "He did.
Mazeroux yes, I got married while you were away Mme. Mazeroux turned out badly herself, gave me the devil of a time, Mme. Mazeroux did. I'll tell you all about it, Chief, how Mme. Mazeroux rewarded my kindness." He led Don Luis gently to the car and settled him on the front seat. "Take a rest, Chief. It's not very cold and there are plenty of furs.
"You shall not pass!" declared Mazeroux, in a resolute tone, extending his arms. "Well, I like that!" "You shall not pass." "Alexandre, just count ten." "A hundred, if you like, but you shall not...." "Oh, blow your catchwords! Get out of this." He seized Mazeroux by both shoulders, made him spin round on his heels and, with a push, sent him floundering over the sofa. Then he opened the door.
Mazeroux found them in a room on the ground floor, where they were sitting up in turns. In reply to his questions, they declared that they had not heard a sound. He went upstairs alone, so as to have no witnesses to his interview with the governor, passed through the drawing-room and entered the study.
"It's she, do you hear, Mazeroux? it's Sauverand's companion who has done everything. I'm telling you now, because I'm afraid of relenting. Yes, I am a weak coward. She has such a grave face, with the eyes of a child. But it's she, Mazeroux. She lives in my house. Remember her name: Florence Levasseur. You'll arrest her, won't you? I might not be able to. My courage fails me when I look at her.
And, in his distraught brain, while Marie lay dying, he heard the explosion at the Fauvilles' house and saw the Prefect of Police and Mazeroux lying hideously mutilated, dead. A numbness crept over him. He fell into a sort of swoon, in which he continued to stammer confused syllables: "Florence Marie Marie " The fourth mysterious letter!
Don Luis was never to learn what had happened with Mme. Mazeroux. The most violent catastrophies had no effect upon the peacefulness of his slumbers. He was asleep almost at once. It was late in the morning when he woke up. Mazeroux had had to wait till seven o'clock before he could hail a cyclist on his way to Chartres. They made a start at nine o'clock. Don Luis had recovered all his coolness.
He could not forget the cry of terror that escaped the girl while he was telephoning to Mazeroux, nor the scared expression of her face. Now it was impossible to attribute that cry and that expression to anything other than the words which he had uttered in reply to Mazeroux: "What! Mme. Fauville tried to commit suicide!"
Don Luis, the deputy chief, and two detectives crowded into the cab; Mazeroux took his seat beside the chauffeur. "Versailles Road!" roared Don Luis. The car started; and he continued: "We've got him! You see, it's a magnificent opportunity. He must be going pretty fast, but without forcing the pace, because he doesn't think we're after him. Oh, the villain, we'll make him sit up! Quicker, driver!
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