He made a grab at her. Dorothy ducked and slipped along the parapet. But he was able to grip her wrists, and he was dragging her towards him, when of a sudden he let go of her, struck by a ray of light which blinded him.
Perched on the parapet Montfaucon had switched full on his face the clear light of an electric torch.
D'Estreicher took himself off. The ray followed him, cleverly guided.
"Dirty little brat!" he growled. "I'll get you.... And you too, young woman! If to-morrow, at two o'clock, at the château, you do not come to heel, the box will be opened in the presence of the police. It's for you to choose."
He disappeared in the shrubbery.
Toward three o'clock in the morning, the trap, which looked down on the box from the interior of the caravan, was opened, as it had been opened the morning before. A hand reached out and shook Saint-Quentin, who was sleeping under his rugs.
"Get up. Dress yourself. No noise."
He protested.
"Dorothy, what you wish to do is absurd."