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You alone overheard my conversation on the telephone with Mazeroux, you alone can have gone to Gaston Sauverand's assistance, waited for him in a motor at the corner of the boulevard, and arranged with him to bring the top half of the walking-stick here. You're the beauty that wants to kill me, for some reason which I do not know. The hand that strikes me in the dark is yours, sweetheart."
But by what prodigy did Mazeroux, his former accomplice, his ardent disciple, his devoted servant, by what prodigy did Mazeroux dare to act as he was doing? Perenna went up to him and pressed gently on the detective's outstretched arm. "Prefect's orders?" he asked. "Yes," muttered the sergeant, uncomfortably. "Orders to keep me here until he comes?" "Yes."
Here is a third memorandum, which is just a copy of the two found in the eighth volume of Shakespeare and which proves that Jean Vernocq, to whom that set of Shakespeare belonged, knew all about Fauville's machination. Here are his correspondence with Caceres, the Peruvian attaché, and the letters denouncing myself and Sergeant Mazeroux, which he intended to send to the press. Here
He turned to his sergeant. "I said a lot last night that I did not mean to say. However, I don't regret it. Yes, it is my duty to do everything to save Mme. Fauville and to catch the real culprit. Only the task falls upon myself; and I swear that I shan't fail in it. This evening Florence Levasseur shall sleep in the lockup!" "I'll help you, Chief," replied Mazeroux, in a queer tone of voice.
He will telephone to headquarters; and to-morrow morning " "And suppose the bird has flown?" "I have no warrant." "Do you want me to sign you one, idiot?" But Don Luis mastered his rage. He felt that all his arguments would be shattered to pieces against the sergeant's obstinacy, and that, if necessary, Mazeroux would go to the length of defending the enemy against him.
So far, he had had the courage to remain huddled in his prison and to wait for the miracle that might come to his assistance; but he preferred to face every danger and undergo every penalty rather than abandon the Prefect of Police, Weber, Mazeroux, and their companions to the death that threatened them. "Help! Help!" Fauville's house would be blown up in three or four hours.
"No, nothing new, Monsieur le Préfet," replied Mazeroux. "That's funny. The confounded fellow must be somewhere. Or can he have got away over the roof?" "Impossible, Monsieur le Préfet," said a third voice, which Don Luis recognized as that of Weber, the deputy chief detective. "Impossible. We made certain yesterday, that unless he has wings " "Then what do you think, Weber?"
Afterward, wishing also to examine the home of the man with the ebony stick, he got into his car again, still accompanied by Mazeroux, and told the man to drive to the Boulevard Richard-Wallace. The car crossed the Seine and followed the right bank. "Faster," he said to his new chauffeur, through the speaking-tube. "I'm accustomed to go at a good pace."
Sergeant Mazeroux put out his own hands, accustomed to rough work, seized the seemingly frail wrists of the man addressing him and said: "No nonsense, now. I don't know whom I've got hold of, but I shan't let you go. You can say what you have to say at the Prefect's." "Don't speak so loud, Alexandre."
Then, calling the detectives who were watching the boulevard, he said: "Let everybody stand a good distance away; push the crowd as far back as you can; and be quick about it. We shall enter the house again in half an hour." "And you, Monsieur le Préfet?" whispered Mazeroux, "You won't remain here, I hope?" "No, that I shan't!" he said, laughing.
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