“That will do; now change the face.”

Palot pulled out a small parcel from his pocket, from which he extracted a red beard and wig, and, going to the mirror, adjusted them with dexterous activity; and, in a few minutes, went up to his master, who was waiting, saying,—­

“How will this do?”

“Not bad, not bad,” returned Lecoq; “and now to your work.”

“Where shall I find him?” asked Palot.

“Somewhere near Mascarin’s den, for I advised him not to give up playing the spy too suddenly.”

Palot was off like the wind, and when he reached the Rue Montmartre, he caught sight of the person who had been intrusted to his care.

Andre was walking slowly along, thinking of Lecoq’s cautions, when a young man, with his arm in a sling, overtook him, going in the same direction as he was.  Andre was sure that it was Paul, and as he knew that he could not be recognized, he passed him in his turn, and saw that it was indeed the Paul so much regretted by Zora.

“I will find out where he goes to,” thought Andre.

He followed, and saw him enter the house of M. Rigal.  Two women were gossiping near the door, and Andre heard one of them say,—­

“That is the young fellow who is going to marry Flavia, the banker’s daughter.”

Paul, therefore, was to marry the daughter of the chief of the gang.  Should he tell Lecoq this?  But, of course, the detective knew it.

Time was passing, and Andre felt that he had but little space to gain the house that Gandelu was building in the Champs Elysees, if he wished to ask hospitality from his friend Vignol.

He found all the workmen there, and not one of them recognized him when he asked for Vignol.

“He is engaged up there,” said one.  “Take the staircase to the left.”

The chief part of the ornamental work was in front, and it was there that the little hut which Tantaine had pointed out to Toto Chupin was erected.  Vignol was in it, and was utterly surprised when Andre made himself known, for he did not recognize him under his strange disguise.

“It is nothing,” returned the young man cautiously, as Vignol paused for an explanation; “only a little love affair.”

“Do you expect to win a girl’s heart by making such a guy of yourself?” asked his friend with a laugh.

“Hush!  I will explain matters later on.  Can you give me shelter for a night or two?”

He stopped himself, turned terribly pale, and listened intently.  He fancied he had heard a woman’s scream, and his own name uttered.

“Andre, it is I—­your Sabine; help!”

Quick as lightning Andre rushed to the window, opened it, and leaned out to discover from whence those sounds came.

The young miscreant, Toto Chupin, had too fatally earned the note with which Tantaine had bribed him.  The whole of the front of the window gave way with a loud crash, and Andre was hurled into space.