"It is all right," said Dixmer; "the house suits me; so hand over to the proprietor the sum of 19,500 francs in payment, and let him give a receipt."
The proprietor did so, first scrupulously counting the money.
"You understand, Citizen," said Dixmer, "the principal clause, that the house must be vacated this evening; that, in short, I must put the workmen in to-morrow."
"Well, Citizen, I agree to do so. You can take the keys this evening at eight o'clock; all will be free."
"Pardon me," said Dixmer, "but did you not tell me, Citizen Notary, there was a way out leading into the Rue Portefoin?"
"Yes, Citizen," said the proprietor; "but I had it closed; for having only one official, the poor devil had too much fatigue, being obliged to watch both doors. But it is so built up that at any time it can be re-opened in two hours at least. Would you wish to convince yourselves, citizens?"
"Thanks, it is not necessary," said Dixmer, "I attach no importance to this way out; it is useless to me."
They then both left, having for the third time reminded the landlord of his promise that the apartments should be empty at eight o'clock that evening.
At nine o'clock they both returned, followed by five or six men at a distance, of whom, in the confusion then reigning in Paris, no one took any notice. They both entered first. The landlord had kept his word; the house was totally empty.
They closed the shutters with the greatest care, and with the aid of a tinder-box, lighted some wax candles which Morand had taken in his pocket.