"By arousing the attention of my enemies and preventing me, for that reason, from collecting proofs which I need in order to confound them."
"Can you explain?"
"No, I cannot … To-morrow, to-morrow morning—not before."
"And if it's too late?" Don Luis interjected.
"Too late? To-morrow?"
"Inspector Vérot told M. Desmalions's secretary that the two murders would take place to-night. He said it was fatal and irrevocable."
"To-night?" cried Fauville angrily. "I tell you no! Not to-night. I'm sure of that. There are things which I know, aren't there, which you do not?"
"Yes," retorted Don Luis, "but there may also be things which Inspector Vérot knew and which you don't know. He had perhaps learned more of your enemies' secrets than you did. The proof is that he was suspected, that a man carrying an ebony walking-stick was seen watching his movements, that, lastly, he was killed."
Hippolyte Fauville's self-assurance decreased. Perenna took advantage of this to insist; and he insisted to such good purpose that Fauville, though without withdrawing from his reserve, ended by yielding before a will that was stronger than his own.
"Well, but you surely don't intend to spend the night in here?"
"We do indeed."
"Why, it's ridiculous! It's sheer waste of time! After all, looking at things from the worst And what do you want besides?"
"Who lives in the house?"
