His heart faltered at the thought. The possessor of such a secret would have the world at his mercy. No ship would be safe, no fort, no artillery-caisson. Armies and navies alike would melt before him, destroyed by the explosion of their own ammunition. Ah, if France possessed that secret....
He shook his head impatiently and turned on his side.
"I am dreaming foolish dreams," he told himself. "It is time to sleep."
CHAPTER IV
THE ALLIES AT WORK
It was nearly four o'clock when Crochard, Lépine and Pigot took their leave of M. Delcassé and made their way through the dark and silent streets in the direction of the Hotel du Nord. The people who had leaped from their beds at sunrise, wearied at last by the emotions of the day and dampened by the fine rain which had begun to fall, had gone to bed again. Only about the harbour were there any signs of life. There the searchlights of the battleships still played about the wreck, where squads of marines were searching for the bodies of their comrades.
The three men, their coats buttoned about them, their hats pulled down, hurried on in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. Crochard and Lépine were planning the campaign; Pigot had not yet recovered from his confusion at the sight of these two working hand in hand.
Five minutes brought them to the door of the Hotel du Nord, and Lépine applied to it a vigorous fist. There was no response, and he pounded again. At last there came the sound of a window being raised, and a night-capped head was thrust out from the upper story.