"Nothing more can be done. It's all up with us," groaned the Joker, flung into consternation, and he stopped the Caid, who with an iron grip, was continuing to pull at the padlocks.
"That's why he came back, the traitor," growled the Parisian. "Listen to me. We've got to make up our minds to it, and go to bed in the deck-house. There's just a chance that he won't see us when he comes back with the Nut. They'll make tracks for the mainland. When they've landed we'll hop out after them. If they twig us on the way, I don't think they'll waste time taking us back to the settlement. It's a good idea—let's lie low."
In the meantime Chéri-Bibi continued his way to the opening of the underground passage. He glided over the ground with the suppleness of a great stag. Suddenly he pulled himself up. He heard voices. And almost at once he caught a glimpse of the silhouettes of the Inspecting Officer and the Commandant of the Penitentiary Administration. They were taking a stroll after dinner, smoking their cigars and talking strategy. The startling events of the war engrossed them to such an extent that, having stopped to discuss Joffre's retreat, the position of Sarrail at Verdun and Castelnau at Nancy, they remained stationary for a quarter of an hour; thus preventing Chéri-Bibi from making a step. Fatalitas! His guns were spiked!
Greatly perturbed at first by the Nut's failure to arrive, Chéri-Bibi now dreaded to see him emerge from the underground passage, for he would be bound to attract the attention of the two officers.
Time went on. And an accident might happen to destroy, in its entirety, the plan which he had so laboriously constructed.
At that moment a tremor passed through him from head to foot. It was seldom that he shuddered, but he saw before him a terrible sight. Coming towards him was a huge dog, a veritable sleuth-hound, whose business it was, also to keep guard, and the dog was charging straight at him.
"Hullo!" said the Commandant. "Here's Tarasque going his rounds. Here! Tarasque! Come here!"
But the huge brute instead of answering the officer's call continued to make for Chéri-Bibi, who, with a feeling of unutterable anguish, saw him rushing up to him.
Strange to say Tarasque did not give tongue. Thus the two officers continued to discuss their ideas of strategy without paying any further attention to the dog. They entertained no suspicion that ten paces away from them a fierce drama was being enacted.
Tarasque was friends with Chéri-Bibi. How had this thing arisen between man and dog? They had taken to each other at their first meeting. Had this monster of a dog scented a brother in this monster of a man?