“We have been commissioned to conduct you to M. d’Argenson, lieutenant of police,” he answered. “He will doubtless explain everything to you, Monsieur.”
“I am under arrest, then?” I asked, with a sinking heart.
“If you choose to call it so, Monsieur,” and the man bowed.
I heard the concierge chuckling savagely in her chair behind me.
“Very well,” I said, after a moment’s reflection, “I shall be very glad to see M. le Comte d’Argenson. But I have some clothing and other property in my room here which I do not care to have stolen.”
“We will seal the door, Monsieur, if you will show us the room. Nothing will then be disturbed in your absence.”
I led the way to the room and we entered.
“We were also instructed to bring to M. d’Argenson a girl named Anne Ribaut,” said the fellow, looking about the room and seeing it empty. “Where is she, Monsieur?”
“I do not know,” I answered bitterly. “I left her here an hour since. When I returned she had disappeared. Look at the condition of the room, Monsieur, and judge if she went willingly.”
They looked about the room with practised eyes, which took in every detail.