He heard hurried footsteps in the street and some one came to a stand outside his shop. That some one brushed against the shop-front. The footsteps were clearly not those of a woman, and thus the person in question could not be Madame Hilaire.
He was about to get up and see for himself what was coming, when a blow from a fist was struck on the shutters and the ominous word was once more flung into echoes of the street: "Fatalitas!"
Chéri-Bibi sprang forward.
"It's he," he cried. "I've come in the nick of time. Is Providence this time on my side?"
He turned to Hilaire, who gazed at him in bewilderment, quite at a loss as to what was happening either in the house or in the street.
"Open the door and pay every attention to the man who comes in, but don't mention that I am here."
Having said which Chéri-Bibi retreated to the dining-room.
Hilaire opened the small low door for the second time, but not before taking from a drawer a revolver which he kept for use in case of emergency. The Nut darted into the shop. Hilaire closed the door and as a measure of greater precaution closed also the iron shutter.
He glanced at his strange visitor and at once felt much easier as he saw before him the face of a scared but entirely honest man.
The new-comer breathed heavily, passing a feverish hand across his brow, bathed in perspiration.