Half unconsciously they had been proceeding on their mutual way and they now stood, without up to that time being aware of it, by the house opposite the lead fountain. The door was open and a citizen of burly aspect lounged within the shadow.
"This—this is where M. le Marquis—Citizen Salais, that is to say, lodges then?" stammered Dumont.
"So I am now told. But citizen or marquis he's flown—cleared off for le Mans six hours ago."
"Le Mans!" shrieked Dumont. "Why, my wife is at le Mans. I sent her there for safety!"
"But, good heavens! Mascot, who knows him well by sight, went to le Mans only yesterday," faltered Buton. "He has walked straight into the lion's mouth."
"He really has gone?" demanded Dumont of the doorkeeper, with an excess of suspicion.
The burly individual stood aside.
"Oh, go up and see for yourselves," he suggested caustically. "First chamber to the front. Don't stand on any ceremony, honest citizens; everyone in Paris goes in and out everywhere, just as he pleases, nowadays. Step up, and don't forget to look up the chimney while you're about it."
Under his sardonic insistence the two friends found themselves making their way into de Salais's deserted room. Dumont picked up a lamp from a bracket on the stairs and held it aloft. Plainly the marquis was gone, and by the evidence around he had left hurriedly, for many of his gay belongings lay flung about the room.
"Upon my word, these aristocrats were a set of peacocks," exclaimed Dumont, in half-envious contempt. "Look at this pearl silk waistcoat, and this blue satin coat, and this hat! I fancy myself in this get-up, Philippe. Let's see how it suits."
He slipped off his own upper garments and drew on
