M. Fantin threw a look of triumph at the little figure in grey that sat huddled beside the iron stove. The commissary had also advanced the theory of an attempted burglary at the château, and was highly elated to see his deductions justified.
"A robbery?" he exclaimed. "How? When?"
"An hour or two ago, Monsieur le Commissaire," replied Gustave. "Monseigneur will explain. I know nothing of the details except that the rascal overturned a lamp. He was burned to death and nearly set fire to the château. I was sent hither post-haste to see Monsieur le Commissaire——"
"Very good," rejoined the commissary. "Ride straight back to the château and tell Monseigneur that I will be there anon."
As soon as the man had gone, M. Fantin turned complacently to the Man in Grey.
"As you see, my dear Monsieur Fernand," he began, "there is no need to——"
"As your squadron is ready, Monsieur le Commissaire," quoth the agent quietly, "'twere a pity not to give them the exercise. And remember the barouche," he added sharply, "and the mounted guard. Do not on any account leave them behind. My orders are in no way modified."
The commissary swallowed the retort which was hovering on his lips; but he threw a look that was almost vicious at the meagre grey-clad figure.
"Do you accompany us?" he asked with a sneer.
"I will meet you at the château," replied the secret agent simply.