“I am in your power,” he said, and then suddenly drew from his pocket-book the unlucky note, and gave it to the detective.

Fanferlot trembled with pleasure as he unfolded the paper; yet, faithful to his habits of fastidious politeness, before reading it, he bowed to Cavaillon, and said: 

“You will permit me, will you not, monsieur?” Then he read as follows: 

“Dear Nina—­If you love me, follow my instructions instantly, without a moment’s hesitation, without asking any questions.  On the receipt of this note, take everything you have in the house, absolutely everything, and establish yourself in furnished rooms at the other end of Paris.  Do not appear in public, but conceal yourself as much as possible.  My life may depend on your obedience.

“I am accused of an immense robbery, and am about to be arrested.  Take with you five hundred francs which you will find in the secretary.

“Leave your address with Cavaillon, who will explain what I have not time to tell.  Be hopeful, whatever happens.  Good-by.  Prosper.”

Had Cavaillon been less bewildered, he would have seen blank disappointment depicted on the detective’s face after the perusal of the note.

Fanferlot had cherished the hope that he was about to possess a very important document, which would clearly prove the guilt or innocence of Prosper; whereas he had only seized a love-letter written by a man who was evidently more anxious about the welfare of the woman he loved than about his own.

Vainly did he puzzle over the letter, hoping to discover some hidden meaning; twist the words as he would, they proved nothing for or against the writer.

The two words “absolutely everything” were underscored, it is true; but they could be interpreted in so many ways.

The detective, however, determined not to drop the matter here.

“This Mme. Nina Gypsy is doubtless a friend of M. Prosper Bertomy?”

“She is his particular friend.”

“Ah, I understand; and she lives here at No. 39?”

“You know it well enough, as you saw me go in there.”

“I suspected it to be the house, monsieur; now tell me whether the apartments she occupies are rented in her name.”

“No.  Prosper rents them.”

“Exactly; and on which floor, if you please?”

“On the first.”

During this colloquy, Fanferlot had folded up the note, and slipped it into his pocket.

“A thousand thanks, monsieur, for the information; and, in return, I will relieve you of the trouble of executing your commission.”

“Monsieur!”

“Yes:  with your permission, I will myself take this note to Mme. Nina Gypsy.”

Cavaillon began to remonstrate; but Fanferlot cut him short by saying: 

“I will also venture to give you a piece of advice.  Return quietly to your business, and have nothing more to do with this affair.”