His black cravat twisted around a paper collar, and ornamented by an imitation diamond pin; his long-tailed black boots and heavy cane, revealed the employee of the Rue de Jerusalem, as plainly as the shoulder-straps mark a soldier.
Joseph Dubois had vanished forever; and from his livery, phoenix-like and triumphant, arose the radiant Fanferlot, surnamed the Squirrel.
When Fanferlot entered the room, Prosper uttered a cry of surprise and almost fright.
He recognized the man who had assisted the commissary of police to examine the bank on the day of the robbery.
M. Verduret examined his aide with a satisfied look, and said:
“Not bad! There is enough of the police-court air about you to alarm even an honest man. You understood me perfectly this time.”
Fanferlot was transported with delight at this compliment.
“What must I do now, patron?” he inquired.
“Nothing difficult for an adroit man: but remember, upon the precision of our movements depends the success of my plan. Before arresting Lagors, I wish to dispose of Clameran. Now that the rascals are separated, the first thing to do is to prevent their coming together.”
“I understand,” said Fanferlot, snapping his little rat-like eyes; “I am to create a diversion.”