“I cannot leave monsieur outside the door,” said Charny.
“Oh, it is a murder!” cried Reteau. “Kill me right off, and have done with it!”
“Be easy,” said Charny; “I do not think monsieur will touch you.”
“You are right,” said Philippe; “you have been beaten—let it suffice; but there are the remaining numbers, which must be destroyed.”
“Oh yes!” cried Charny. “You see, two heads are better than one; I should have forgotten that. But how did you happen to come to this gate, M. de Taverney?”
“I made some inquiries in the neighborhood about this fellow, and hearing that he had this mode of escape, I thought by coming in here, and locking the gate after me, I should cut off his retreat, and make sure of him. The same idea of vengeance struck you, only more in a hurry, you came straight to his house without any inquiries, and he would have escaped you if I had not luckily been here.”
“I am rejoiced that you were, M. de Taverney. Now, fellow, lead us to your press.”
“It is not here,” said Reteau.
“A lie!” said Charny.
“No, no,” cried Philippe, “we do not want the press; the numbers are all printed and here, except those sold to M. de Cagliostro.”