"Weber, the deputy chief?"
"He's not here. And as long as he's not here I'll take everything on myself. Come, follow me, but at some little distance. When I give the signal and not till then—"
He drew the bolt and turned the handle of the door. At that moment some one knocked. It was the butler.
"Well?" asked Don Luis. "Why am I disturbed?"
"The deputy chief detective, M. Weber, is here, sir."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROUTED
Don Luis had certainly expected this formidable blow; and yet it appeared to take him unawares, and he repeated more than once:
"Ah, Weber is here! Weber is here!"
All his buoyancy left him, and he felt like a retreating army which, after almost making good its escape, suddenly finds itself brought to a stop by a steep mountain. Weber was there—that is to say, the chief leader of the enemies, the man who would be sure to plan the attack and the resistance in such a manner as to dash Perenna's hopes to the ground. With Weber at the head of the detectives, any attempt to force a way out would have been absurd.