Crochard glanced at the driver.
"He is your man, of course?" he said to Lépine. "Good." And, as the others entered, he stopped to speak a few words to him. Then he, too, leaped inside, and slammed the door.
The driver spoke to his horses, and they were off, along the Rue Nationale, across the Place St. Roche, through the Botanic Gardens, past the Marine Observatory, under the Porte Nationale, and through the faubourgs. At the end of twenty minutes, the town was left behind, and Crochard stopped the carriage, got out, and mounted to the seat beside the driver.
Then, at a slower pace, the carriage climbed a narrow road leading toward the hills back of the town. It was apparently little used, for it was overgrown with grass, over which the carriage-wheels rolled noiselessly. Inside the carriage, Delcassé spoke only once.
"On this day of surprises, I am prepared for anything!" he declared, and relapsed into silence.
At last the carriage stopped, and, pulling back the curtains, those within it saw they were in the midst of a grove of lofty beeches.
Crochard jumped from the seat and opened the door.
"We must get out here," he said; and when the others had alighted, he started off before them among the trees.
Delcassé kept close at the leader's heels, fairly panting with eagerness. Lépine followed and Marbeau came last. The rustling of the dead leaves beneath their feet was the only sound which broke the stillness. At the end of five minutes, they came to what was apparently a deserted shed. Its door was secured by a heavy hasp and padlock. Crochard drew a key from his pocket, opened the padlock, released the hasp, and threw back the door.
"Enter, my friends!" he cried, and stood aside that they might pass.