“Lieutenant Bernin, monsieur.”
“Well, Lieutenant Bernin,” I cried, “I foresee that we are going to pass a very pleasant day together,” and I turned again to an apparently careless scrutiny of the scene. I could catch but a glimpse of the river below the window, from which I judged that the house not only stood upon the bank, but that the upper stories projected out over the water, after the fashion of many of the older houses standing along the Seine. In a moment I saw a possible way of escape. A drop of forty feet to a stone pavement was not to be thought of; but a drop of forty feet into the water was another matter. I turned away from the window, trembling lest by some motion I might betray my thought. I examined the window itself attentively when I could do so unobserved, and saw that it was of the ordinary kind, with a sash which could be readily broken by a blow with a chair or any other heavy object. The problem was to keep my guards at a distance during the moment it would take me to break a passage and drop into the water. It was a problem not easy of solution, and I retired to the bedroom and lay down upon the bed to think it over.
The bedroom was about ten feet square, without windows and with only one door, that opening into the outer room. This door was of some strength, and had a bolt on the outer side, so that by merely closing it and throwing the bolt they could make me a prisoner in this small room. If it were only the soldiers who were in the bedroom and I who were outside, an instant would suffice to bolt the door, and it would be several minutes at least before they could break it down,—more time certainly than I should need to get through the window. In a moment I had my plan, and I spent some half-hour working out all its details.
The remainder of the morning passed quickly, and when my dinner appeared Hérault accompanied it.
“I have been taxing myself with being inhospitable, M. de Brancas,” he said, “but I beg of you to believe that it was the most urgent business which prevented my coming to see you earlier. A lieutenant of police never gets time to rest or to see his friends.”
“I can well believe it,” I answered. “You are going to dine with me, are you not, monsieur?”
“If it pleases you to have a companion.”
“Nothing could please me more,” I said, heartily, for I really admired the man; and as we sat down I examined his face with interest. It was a face which, even animated as at this moment, was still as impenetrable as a wall of stone. The firmly set lips and aggressive chin showed a man not wanting in decision, and I did not doubt that those cool, gray eyes could become two poniards when it was a question of obtaining a confession from a prisoner.
“I need not tell you, monsieur,” I said, after a moment, “how deeply your system of police espionage interests me. I have already had two or three proofs of the thoroughness of its work, and it seems to me a wonderful organization. Do you object to telling me more about it?”
“Not at all,” he answered, smiling. “There is nothing secret about the general principles of our system. What is it you would like to know, monsieur?”