But the tradesman mistook him; and, seizing this magnificent opportunity to display his knowledge,
“Rio de Janeiro is the capital of Brazil,” he said in a tone of importance. “And your relative evidently intended to go there; and, if he has not changed his mind, I doubt whether you can overtake him; for the Brazilian steamer was to have sailed yesterday from Havre.”
Whatever may have been his intentions, M. de Tregars remained perfectly calm.
“If that’s the case,” he said to the shopkeepers, “I think I had better give up the chase. I am much obliged to you, however, for your information.”
But, once out again,
“Do you really believe,” inquired Maxence, “that my father has left France?”
M. de Tregars shook his head.
“I will give you my opinion,” he uttered, “after I have investigated matters in the Rue du Cirque.”
They drove there in a few minutes; and, the cab having stopped at the entrance of the street, they walked on foot in front of No. 49. It was a small cottage, only one story in height, built between a sanded court-yard and a garden, whose tall trees showed above the roof. At the windows could be seen curtains of light-colored silk, —a sure indication of the presence of a young and pretty woman.
For a few minutes Marius de Tregars remained in observation; but, as nothing stirred,