“DEAR AUNT—It is imperatively necessary for me to see you to-day; so do not fail to come to Vesinet.
“I will explain why I give you this trouble, instead of calling at your house.
“RAOUL.”
“I have them now!” cried M. Fauvel trembling with satisfaction at the near prospect of vengeance.
Eager to lose no time, he opened a drawer, took out a revolver, and examined the hammer to see if it worked easily.
He imagined himself alone, but a vigilant eye was watching his movements. Gypsy, immediately upon her return from the Archangel, stationed herself at the key-hole of the study-door, and saw all that occurred.
M. Fauvel laid the pistol on the mantel-piece, and nervously resealed the letter, which he then took to the box where the letters were usually left, not wishing anyone to know that Raoul’s letter had passed through his hands.
He was only absent two minutes, but, inspired by the imminence of the danger, Gypsy darted into the study, and rapidly extracted the balls from the revolver.
“Thank Heaven!” she murmured: “this peril is averted, and M. Verduret will now perhaps have time to prevent a murder. I must send Cavaillon to tell him.”
She hurried into the bank, and sent the clerk with a message, telling him to leave it with Mme. Alexandre, if M. Verduret had left the hotel.