And he repeated to himself: 

“The teeth of the tiger!  The teeth of the wild beast!”

He locked the garden door behind him, bolted it, put back the keys on the table and said to Mazeroux: 

“Have you spoken to the Chief of Police?”

“Yes.”

“Is he coming?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t he order you to telephone for the commissary of police?”

“No.”

“That means that he wants to see everything by himself.  So much the better.  But the detective office?  The public prosecutor?”

“He’s told them.”

“What’s the matter with you, Alexandre?  I have to drag your answers out of you.  Well, what is it?  You’re looking at me very queerly.  What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s all right.  I expect this business has turned your head.  And no wonder....  The Prefect won’t enjoy himself, either, ... especially as he put his faith in me a bit light-heartedly and will be called upon to give an explanation of my presence here.  By the way, it’s much better that you should take upon yourself the responsibility for all that we have done.  Don’t you agree?  Besides, it’ll do you all the good in the world.

“Put yourself forward, flatly; suppress me as much as you can; and, above all—­I don’t suppose that you will have any objection to this little detail—­don’t be such a fool as to say that you went to sleep for a single second, last night, in the passage.  First of all, you’d only be blamed for it.  And then ... well, that’s understood, eh?  So we have only to say good-bye.

“If the Prefect wants me, as I expect he will, telephone to my address, Place du Palais-Bourbon.  I shall be there.  Good-bye.  It is not necessary for me to assist at the inquiry; my presence would be out of place.  Good-bye, old chap.”

He turned toward the door of the passage.

“Half a moment!” cried Mazeroux.

“Half a moment?...  What do you mean?”

The detective sergeant had flung himself between him and the door and was blocking his way.

“Yes, half a moment ...  I am not of your opinion.  It’s far better that you should wait until the Prefect comes.”

“But I don’t care a hang about your opinion!”

“May be; but you shan’t pass.”

“What!  Why, Alexandre, you must be ill!”

“Look here, Chief,” said Mazeroux feebly.  “What can it matter to you?  It’s only natural that the Prefect should wish to speak to you.”

“Ah, it’s the Prefect who wishes, is it?...  Well, my lad, you can tell him that I am not at his orders, that I am at nobody’s orders, and that, if the President of the Republic, if Napoleon I himself were to bar my way ...  Besides, rats!  Enough said.  Get out of the road!”

“You shall not pass!” declared Mazeroux, in a resolute tone, extending his arms.

“Well, I like that!”

“You shall not pass.”