Protesting in a squeaky voice that his constitution was weakly, that his doctor had ordered him not to sit up late, the Scrub, who feared a meeting with Bobinette, knowing she had little liking for him, now took himself off.
Geoffrey ordered two drinks. He was bored. Bobinette was behind her promised time. He would have left, but Bobinette would pay for his drinks—a nice little total!
At last she appeared: an out-of-breath Bobinette, and somewhat flustered.
She was quietly dressed—almost shabby. This was no place for one of the elegant toilettes affected by Mademoiselle de Naarboveck's companion!... After her Rouen journey, after her meeting with Lieutenant de Loubersac in the train, she had thought it wiser not to go back to the baron's house. She had written to say she was ill. Then she had taken refuge in a quiet little inn in la Chapelle neighbourhood, there to await events.
Vagualame's arrest had made a terrible impression on her.... Vagualame had not betrayed her; but she sensed snares, pitfalls all about her: she might be trapped any minute: she must disappear! After Vagualame's arrest she had had but one idea: to get rid of the gun piece, hand it to the foreign power, and receive the promised reward.... When, instead of Corporal Vinson, whom she had summoned in accordance with her orders, she had perceived Fandor, she was puzzled, suspicious.
If Bobinette went to the meeting place in her own undisguised person, and met Fandor as Fandor, it was because she had had the same idea as the journalist.
"I will walk through the arcades as Bobinette, and I shall see if Corporal Vinson is there, or if, by chance, he is not alone!"
That same day at Rouen she had had a bad shock. The telegram she had received at the garage was from Vagualame!... How could an arrested Vagualame send her a telegram, and such a telegram?
This telegram, in their usual cypher, informed her that at all costs, and at once, she must separate herself from Corporal Vinson, who was not the real Vinson, but a counter-spy!... Bobinette all but fainted from fright.... She must escape from this counter-spy!... Yet, owing to the false Vinson's insistence, she had been forced to share his room!... He did not mean to let her out of his sight, that was plain!...
No sooner had the false Vinson gone down to the car in the morning than Bobinette had slipped off, hot foot for Rouen. The gun piece was left behind! The chauffeur would bear the brunt of that, thought Bobinette, as she sped on her way. Later, she read of his arrest and release.