“Ah! Who knows?”
“What do you mean?”
“Yes, it is not absolutely certain that the secret is lost! Perhaps some one possesses the General’s formulæ in duplicate.”
“Who?” exclaimed the Minister.
Graff rubbed his hands together and replied—
“My nephew!”
“Marcel? Has he said anything to you?”
“Yes. A week ago.”
At these words Baradier turned pale. Turning to his brother-in-law, with a look of anguish, he exclaimed—
“Never let the slightest suspicion of this be known! Repeat to no one what you have just said! They have killed Trémont! Do you want them to kill my son?”