lank. His moustache had vanished, and along with it the dress of a well-to-do provincial man of business. He wore a livery of the Charmeraces, and at that early morning hour had not yet assumed the blue waistcoat which is an integral part of it. Indeed it would have required an acute and experienced observer to recognize in him the bogus purchaser of the Mercrac. Only his eyes, his close-set eyes, were unchanged.
Walking restlessly up and down the middle of the room, keeping out of sight of the windows, was Victoire. She wore a very anxious air, as did Charolais too. By the door stood Bernard Charolais; and his natural, boyish timidity, to judge from his frightened eyes, had assumed an acute phase.
"By the Lord, we're done!" cried Charolais, starting back from the window. "That was the front-door bell."
"No, it was only the hall clock," said Bernard.
"That's seven o'clock! Oh, where can he be?" said Victoire, wringing her hands. "The coup was fixed for midnight. . . . Where can he be?"
"They must be after him," said Charolais. "And he daren't come home." Gingerly he drew back the curtain and resumed his watch.
"I've sent down the lift to the bottom, in
