"You will not find any one to tell you at this time," the doctor replied. "But, if you will leave me your address, I will send over to the parsonage this evening and ask Mr. Wickham to turn it up in the register, and let you know."
Monsieur Dupont delivered himself of profuse thanks. Five minutes later he had taken leave of the old doctor, and was returning to the station under the guidance of the sunburnt youth, who was obviously relieved when the expedition terminated.
He slept peacefully until the train reached Paddington.
It was five o'clock when he returned to the Savoy. The girl, Jenny West, was waiting for him. She was as white as death.
"They have charged him," she sobbed. "He is remanded for a week."
He laid a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Do not be afraid," he said. "He will be saved. I have given my word—the word of Dupont—that he will be saved."
He sat down at his writing table, and wrote rapidly for several minutes. He covered four or five sheets of paper, and placed them in an envelope.
"Here, mademoiselle," he said, rising, "are your instructions for to-morrow morning. Do not read them until you are alone. A car will be waiting for you here at ten o'clock in the morning. In the afternoon you will be at liberty to visit Monsieur Layton. I shall expect to see you here at one o'clock."
He bowed her out of the room. Half an hour later, he was on his way to Streatham.