“Have you got that shawl?” asked Catenac hoarsely.

“Am I a fool?” asked Mascarin contemptuously.  “Tantaine has it; but I know where the body is, and will keep the information to myself.  Do not be alarmed; act fairly, and you are safe; but make one treacherous move, and you will read in the next day’s papers a paragraph something to this effect:  ’Yesterday some workmen, engaged in excavations near so-and-so, discovered the body of a new-born infant.  Every effort is being made to discover the author of the crime.’  You know me, and that I work promptly.  To the shawl I have added a handkerchief and a few other articles belonging to Clarisse, which will render it an easy matter to fix the guilt on you.”

Catenac was absolutely stunned, and had lost all power of defending himself.  The few incoherent words that he uttered showed his state of utter despair.

“You have killed me,” gasped he, “just as the prize, that I have been looking for for twenty years, was in my grasp.”

“Work does a man no harm,” remarked the doctor sententiously.

There was, however, little time to lose; the Marquis de Croisenois and Paul might be expected to arrive at any moment, and Mascarin hastened to restore a certain amount of calmness to his prostrate antagonist.

“You make as much noise as if we were going to hand you over to the executioner on the spot.  Do you think that we are such a pair of fools as to risk all these hazards without some almost certain chance of success?  Hortebise was as much startled as yourself when I first spoke to him of this affair, but I explained everything fully to him, and now he is quite enthusiastic in the matter.  Of course you can lay aside all fear, and, as a man of the world, will bear no malice against those who have simply played a better game than yourself.”

“Go on,” said Catenac, forcing a smile, “I am listening.”

Mascarin made a short pause.

“What we want of you,” answered he, “will not compromise you in the slightest degree.  I wish you to draw up a document, the particulars of which I will give you presently, and you will outwardly have no connection with the matter.”

“Very good.”

“But there is more yet.  The Duke of Champdoce has placed a difficult task in your hands.  You are engaged in a secret on his behalf.”

“You know that also?”

“I know everything that may be made subservient to our ends.  I also know that instead of coming direct to me you went to the very man that we have every reason to dread, that fellow Perpignan, who is nearly as sharp as we are.”

“Go on,” returned Catenac impatiently.  “What do you expect from me on this point?”

“Not much; you must only come to me first, and report any discovery you may have made, and never give any information to the Duke without first consulting us.”

“I agree.”

The contending parties seemed to have arrived at an amicable termination, and Dr. Hortebise smiled complacently.