Vinson, who had not lost a single movement of the agent's, gave a sigh of satisfaction. He had perfectly understood the why and wherefore of his pursuer's hesitations; he seemed now in high good-humour; had he not caught sight of the new arrival! He was immensely amused!
The person who had just come upstairs was now ringing Fandor's bell. Not getting any answer, he selected a key on his bunch, and it was his turn to let himself in to the journalist's flat.
As he was closing the door, Corporal Vinson, from the landing above, gave him an ironical salute.
"I much regret that I am unable to introduce you to each other! But, by way of return, I thank you for the service you have unwittingly done me."
The way was open: Vinson rapidly descended, gained the street, hailed a cab.
"To the Eastern Station!"
"I have missed the express," he muttered; "but I shall catch the first train for those on leave."
Whilst Corporal Vinson was congratulating himself on the turn of events, the agent remained in Fandor's flat, feeling as if he were the victim of an abominable nightmare. No sooner had he hurriedly let himself into the flat in order to escape the resident coming upstairs, than he heard the bell ring: he felt desperate: "Who the devil was it!" Assuredly not the unknown who had fled so mysteriously—"Who then?"
When the bell rang a second time, the man cried: "What's to be done?" Well, the best thing was to wait in the journalist's study: it was more than probable that, not obtaining any response, the visitor would go away!... This was not at all what happened.