In words as brief and comprehensive as possible he explained what he wanted done. He must find Remond at once—find him and bring him to the Convent of Le Bon Berger.
"A life hangs on his hands," he said, feverishly. "Tell him not to fail to bring with him the antidote he received last night."
"I will find him if he is in the city," the detective promised, ardently; and full of zeal, inspired not only by love for his profession, but genuine anxiety and grief over the startling case just confided to him, he sprung from the carriage to set about his task.
And Carmontelle, with his mind full of Little Nobody, gave the order again:
"To the convent!"
He was possessed by the most torturing anxiety over his little charge, and doubt over madame's startling assertion.
"Horrible! horrible! What possessed her to use a drug so deadly?" he thought, wildly. "Oh, it can not be true! I shall find her awake and waiting for me, the poor lamb! Madame Lorraine only invented that story to torture me."
He spoke feverishly to the driver:
"Faster, faster!"