"I agree."
"In that case, Monsieur le Président, in a few days from this I shall be the victor . . . or I shall be dead."
At Saint-Cloud. A little villa situated on one of the highest points of the upland, in an unfrequented road.
It was eleven o'clock at night. M. Lenormand left his car at Saint-Cloud and walked cautiously along the road. A shadow appeared.
"Is that you, Gourel?"
"Yes, chief."
"Did you tell the brothers Doudeville that I was coming?"
"Yes, your room is ready, you can go to bed and sleep . . . unless they try to carry off Pierre Leduc to-night, which would not surprise me, considering the behavior of the fellow whom the Doudevilles saw."
They walked across the garden, softly entered the house and went up to the first floor. The two brothers, Jean and Jacques Doudeville, were there.