“Nowhere; I have just arrived.”

“Then let us meet here this evening at ten o’clock, in this room, and we will liquidate our association.”

His first impulse was to refuse.  Of what use to give alms to this old monkey?  But, after all, it did not cost much to pay his witness five louis, and he gave them to him.

“A thousand thanks!  This evening, at ten o’clock.”

As Saniel left the room he found himself face to face with his old comrade Duphot, who was accompanied by a woman, the same whom he had cured.

“What! you here?” both the lover and his mistress exclaimed.

Saniel related why he was at Monaco, and what he had done since his arrival.

“With my money!  Ah!  She is very well,” Duphot cried.

“And you will play no more?” the woman asked.

“I have all I want.”

“Then you will play for me.”

He wished to decline, but they drew him to the roulette table, and each put a louis in his hand.

“Play.”

“How?”

“As inspiration counsels you.  You have the luck.”

But his luck had died.  The two louis were lost.

They gave him two others, which won eight.

“You see, dear friend.”

He went on, with varying luck, winning and losing.

At the end of a quarter of an hour they permitted him to go.

“And what are you going to do now?” Duphot asked.

“To send what I owe to my creditors by telegraph.”

“Do you know where the telegraph is?”

“No.”

“I will go with you.”

This was a second witness that Saniel was too wise to shake off.

When he had sent his telegram to Jardine, he had nothing more to do at Monte Carlo, and as he could not leave before eleven o’clock in the evening, he was idle, not knowing how to employ his time.  So he bought a Nice newspaper and seated himself in the garden, under a gaslight, facing the dark and tranquil sea.  Perhaps he could find in it some telegraph despatch which would tell him what had occurred in the Rue Sainte-Anne since his departure.

At the end of the paper, under “Latest News,” he read: 

“The crime of the Rue Sainte-Anne seems to take a new turn; the investigations made with more care have led to the discovery of a trousers’ button, to which is attached a piece of cloth.  It shows, therefore, that before the crime there was a struggle between the victim and the assassin.  As this button has certain letters and marks, it is a valuable clew for the police.”

This proof of a struggle between the victim and the assassin made Saniel smile.  Who could tell how long this button had been there?

Suddenly he left his seat, and entering a copse he examined his clothing. 
Was it he who had lost it?

But soon he was ashamed of this unconscious movement.  The button which the police were so proud to discover, did not belong to him.  This new track on which they were about to enter did not lead to him.