"To take refuge in an hotel was an idiotic thing to do, Bobinette.... The police could easily have nabbed you there if they had had a mind to. That is why I sent you to one of my old friends—to a person to whom I could recommend you!... Well, Bobinette, you will have to leave that house!"
The young woman bent her head, mastered, ready to accept any orders of Vagualame's before they were issued. All she asked, in a timid voice, was: "Where am I to go then?"
"Far from here."
"Why?"
Vagualame's smile was evil. His reply was like a series of sword thrusts.
"Because Juve has good eyes; because Fandor also begins to see clear.... The net begins to tighten.... I shall find means to slip through it!... I am not of those who are caught like a mouse in a trap.... But, as for you—you with your simplicity—it is high time to put you out of reach of the police!... I am going to give you some money. Five days hence, disguised as a gipsy, you are to be on the road from Sceaux to Versailles, at eleven o'clock at night, by the first milestone on the left side after the aeroplane garage.... You have followed me?"
Bobinette was trembling.
"Disguised as a gipsy, Vagualame? Why?"
"That is no concern of yours!... You have only to do as I tell you. I give orders, but not explanations!"
Vagualame felt in his pockets. He held out a note-book.