“Who?”
“His valet’s mistress; for, after all, we must keep ourselves informed at every moment of what is going on in the enemy’s camp.”
At midnight, Paccard, Esther’s tall chasseur, met Carlos on the Pont des Arts, the most favorable spot in all Paris for saying a few words which no one must overhear. All the time they talked the servant kept an eye on one side, while his master looked out on the other.
“The Baron went to the Prefecture of Police this morning between four and five,” said the man, “and he boasted this evening that he should find the woman he saw in the Bois de Vincennes—he had been promised it——”
“We are watched!” said Carlos. “By whom?”
“They have already employed Louchard the bailiff.”
“That would be child’s play,” replied Carlos. “We need fear nothing but the guardians of public safety, the criminal police; and so long as that is not set in motion, we can go on!”
“That is not all.”
“What else?”
“Our chums of the hulks.—I saw Lapouraille yesterday——He has choked off a married couple, and has bagged ten thousand five-franc pieces—in gold.”