In the meantime the crowd outside had diminished, as M. Desmalions perceived on opening the garden gate. The orders had been relaxed and sightseers were allowed to come nearer, though they were still kept at a distance from the pavement.
Mazeroux said:
"It is a good thing that the explosion is due in ten days' time and not to-night, Monsieur le Préfet; otherwise, all those good people would be in danger as well as ourselves."
"There will be no explosion in ten days' time, any more than there will be a letter to-night," said M. Desmalions, shrugging his shoulders. And he added, "Besides, on that day, the orders will be strict."
It was now ten minutes past two.
At twenty-five minutes past, as the Prefect was lighting a cigar, the chief detective ventured to joke:
"That's something you will have to do without, next time, Monsieur le
Préfet. It would be too risky."
"Next time," said M. Desmalions, "I shall not waste time in keeping watch. For I really begin to think that all this business with the letters is over."
"You can never tell," suggested Mazeroux.
A few minutes more passed. M. Desmalions had sat down. The others also were seated. No one spoke.