There was a pause, after which the deputy chief resumed in a more and more solemn voice: 

“Monsieur le Prefet, yesterday I suffered a cruel outrage at the hands of that man.  It was witnessed by our subordinates.  The servants must be aware of it.  The public will know of it before long.  This man has brought about the escape of Florence Levasseur.  He tried to bring about the escape of Gaston Sauverand.  He is a ruffian of the most dangerous type.  Monsieur le Prefet, I am sure that you will not refuse me leave to dig him out of his hole.  Otherwise—­otherwise, Monsieur le Prefet, I shall feel obliged to hand in my resignation.”

“With good reasons to back it up!” said the Prefect, laughing.  “There’s no doubt about it; you can’t stomach the trick of the iron curtain.  Well, go ahead!  It’s Don Luis’s own lookout; he’s brought it on himself.  Mazeroux, ring me up at the office as soon as the telephone is put right.  And both of you meet me at the Fauvilles’ house this evening.  Don’t forget it’s the night for the fourth letter.”

“There won’t be any fourth letter, Monsieur le Prefet,” said Weber.

“Why not?”

“Because between this and then Don Luis will be under lock and key.”

“Oh, so you accuse Don Luis also of—­”

Don Luis did not wait to hear more.  He softly retreated to the cupboard, took hold of the panel and pushed it back without a sound.

So his hiding-place was known!

“By Jingo,” he growled, “this is a bit awkward!  I’m in a nice plight!”

He had run halfway along the underground passage, with the intention of reaching the other exit.  But he stopped.

“It’s not worth while, as the exit’s watched.  Well, let’s see; am I to let myself be collared?  Wait a bit, let’s see—­”

Already there came from the alcove below a noise of blows striking on the panel, the hollow sound of which had probably attracted the deputy chief’s attention.  And, as Weber was not compelled to take the same precautions as Don Luis, and seemed to be breaking down the panel without delaying to look for the mechanism, the danger was close at hand.

“Oh, hang it all!” muttered Don Luis.  “This is too silly.  What shall I do?  Have a dash at them?  Ah, if I had all my strength!”

But he was exhausted by want of food.  His legs shook beneath him and his brain seemed to lack its usual clearness.

The increasing violence of the blows in the alcove drove him, in spite of all, toward the upper exit; and, as he climbed the ladder, he moved his electric lantern over the stones of the wall and the wood of the trapdoor.  He even tried to lift the door with his shoulder.  But he again heard a sound of footsteps above his head.  The men were still there.

Then, consumed with fury and helpless, he awaited the deputy’s coming.

A crash came from below; its echo spread through the tunnel, followed by a tumult of voices.