Hardly, however, had the manager started to summon the police, than, as if by magic, a body of them appeared; and Andre found himself walking down the boulevard between a couple, while his late antagonist followed in the safe custody of two more.  To have attempted any resistance would have been utter folly, and the young man resigned himself to what he felt he could not help.  But as he went on, he reflected on the strange scene through which he had just passed.  All had gone on so rapidly that he could hardly recall the events to his memory.  He was, however, quite sure that this unprovoked assault concealed some motive with which at present he was unacquainted.

The police led their prisoners through the doorway of a dingy-looking old house, and then Andre saw that he was not at the regular police-station.  The whole party entered an office, where a superintendent and two clerks were at work.  The ruffian who had assaulted Andre changed his manner directly he entered the office; he threw his tattered cap upon a bench, passed his fingers through his hair, and shook hands with the superintendent; he then turned to Andre.

“Permit me, sir,” said he, “to compliment you on being so handy with your fists.  You precious nearly did for me, I can tell you.”

At that moment a door opened at the other end of the room, and a voice was heard to say, “Send them in.”

Andre and his late antagonist soon found themselves in an office evidently sacred to some one high up in the police.  At a desk near the window was seated a man, with a rather distinguished air, wearing a white necktie and a pair of gold glasses.

“Have the goodness to take a seat,” said this gentleman, addressing Andre with the most perfect urbanity.

He took a chair, half stupefied by the strangeness of the whole affair, and waited.  Could he be awake, or was he dreaming?  He could hardly tell.

“Before I say anything,” remarked the gentleman in the gold spectacles, “I ought to apologize for a proceeding which is—­well, what shall I call it?—­a little rough, perhaps; but it was necessary to make use of it to obtain this interview with you.  Really, however, I had no choice.  You are closely watched, and I did not wish the persons who had set spies on you to have any knowledge of this conference.”

“Do you say I am watched?” stammered Andre.

“Yes, by a certain La Candele, as sharp a fellow at that kind of work as you could find in Paris.  Are you surprised at this?”

“Yes, for I had thought——­”

The gentleman’s features softened into a benevolent smile.

“You thought,” he said, “that you had succeeded in throwing them off the scent.  So I had imagined this morning, when I saw you in your present disguise.  But permit me, my dear M. Andre, to assure you that there is great room for improvement in it.  I admit that a first attempt is always to be looked on leniently; but it did not deceive La Candele, and even at this distance I can plainly see your whole makeup; and what I can see, of course, is patent to others.”