“Are you going to leave the city?”

“In an hour I shall be on the road to Beaucaire.  It was from that neighborhood that Clameran came, as well as Mme. Fauvel, who was a Mlle. de la Verberie before marriage.”

“Yes, I knew both families.”

“I must go there to study them.  Neither Raoul nor Clameran can escape during my absence.  The police are watching them.  But you, Prosper, must be prudent.  Promise me to remain a prisoner here during my trip.”

All that M. Verduret asked, Prosper willingly promised.  But he did not wish to be left in complete ignorance of his projects for the future, or of his motives in the past.

“Will you not tell me, monsieur, who you are, and what reasons you had for coming to my rescue?”

The extraordinary man smiled sadly, and said: 

“I tell, in the presence of Nina, on the day before your marriage with Madeleine.”

Once left to his own reflections, Prosper began to appreciate the powerful assistance rendered by his friend.

Recalling the field of investigation gone over by his mysterious protector, he was amazed at its extent.

How many facts had been discovered in a week, and with what precision, although he had pretended to be on the wrong track!  Verduret had grouped his evidence, and reached a result which Prosper felt he never could have hoped to attain by his own exertions.

He was conscious that he possessed neither Verduret’s penetration nor his subtlety.  He did not possess this art of compelling obedience, of creating friends at every step, and the science of making men and circumstances unite in the attainment of a common result.

He began to regret the absence of his friend, who had risen up in the hour of adversity.  He missed the sometimes rough but always kindly voice, which had encouraged and consoled him.

He felt wofully lost and helpless, not daring to act or think for himself, more timid than a child when deserted by his nurse.

He had the good sense to follow the recommendations of his mentor.  He remained shut up in the Archangel, not even appearing at the windows.

Twice he had news of M. Verduret.  The first time he received a letter in which this friend said he had seen his father, and had had a long talk with him.  Afterward, Dubois, M. de Clameran’s valet, came to tell him that his “patron” reported everything as progressing finely.

On the ninth day of his voluntary seclusion, Prosper began to feel restless, and at ten o’clock at night set forth to take a walk, thinking the fresh air would relieve the headache which had kept him awake the previous night.

Mme. Alexandre, who seemed to have some knowledge of M. Verduret’s affairs, begged Prosper to remain at home.

“What can I risk by taking a walk at this time, in a quiet part of the city?” he asked.  “I can certainly stroll as far as the Jardin des Plantes without meeting anyone.”