Meantime, the step on the stairs came nearer.  It was a light, quick step, and, looking up, Coquenil saw Alice hurrying toward him, tense with some eager purpose.

“Oh, M. Matthieu!” exclaimed the girl in apparent surprise.  Then going close to him she said in a low tone that quivered with emotion:  “I came after you, I must speak to you, I—­I know who you are.”

He looked at her sharply.

“You are M. Coquenil,” she whispered.

“You saw it?” he asked uneasily.

She shook her head.  “I knew it.”

“Ah!” with relief.  “Does he know?”

The girl’s hands closed convulsively while the pupils of her eyes widened and then grew small.  “I’m afraid so,” she murmured, and then added these singular words:  “He knows everything.”

M. Paul laid a soothing hand on her arm and said kindly:  “Are you afraid of him?”

“Ye-es.”  Her voice was almost inaudible.

“Is he planning something?”

For a moment Alice hesitated, biting her red lips, then with a quick impulse, she lifted her dark eyes to Coquenil.  “I must tell you, I have no one else to tell, and I am so distressed, so—­so afraid.”  She caught his hands pleadingly in hers, and he felt that they were icy cold.

“I’ll protect you, that’s what I’m here for,” he assured her, “but go on, speak quickly.  What is he planning?”

“He’s planning to take me away, away from Paris, I’m sure he is.  I overheard him just now telling Mother Bonneton to pack my trunk.  He says he will spend three or four days in Paris, but that may not be true, he may go at once to-night.  You can’t believe him or trust him, and, if he takes me away, I—­I may never come back.”

“He won’t take you away,” said M. Paul reassuring, “that is, he won’t if—­See here, you trust me?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You’ll do exactly what I tell you, exactly, without asking how or why?”

“I will,” she declared.

“You’re a plucky little girl,” he said as he met her unflinching look.  “Let me think a moment,” and he turned back and forth in the hall, brows contracted, hands deep in his pockets.  “I have it!” he exclaimed presently, his face brightening.  “Now listen,” and speaking slowly and distinctly, the detective gave Alice precise instructions, then he went over them again, point by point.

“Are you sure you understand?” he asked finally.

“Yes, I understand and I will do what you tell me,” she answered firmly, “but——­”

“Well?”

“It will bring trouble on you.  If anyone stands in his way—­” She shivered in alarm.

Coquenil smiled confidently.  “Don’t worry about me.”

She shook her head anxiously.  “You don’t know, you can’t understand what a”—­she stopped as if searching for a word—­“what a wicked man he is.”

“I understand—­a little,” answered Coquenil gravely; “you can tell me more when we have time; we mustn’t talk now, we must act.”