Mme. Doulenques' mistrust waxed greater, and she sincerely regretted being alone on the fifth floor with these strangers, for the other occupants of this floor had gone off to their daily work long ago. Suddenly she escaped from the room, and called shrilly down the stairs:
"Madame Aurore! Madame Aurore!"
The man in the soft hat rushed after her, seized her gently but firmly by the arm, and led her back into the room.
"I beg you, madame, make no noise: do not call out!" he said in a low tone. "Everything will be all right. I only ask you not to create a disturbance."
But the concierge was thoroughly alarmed by the really odd behaviour of all these men, and again screamed at the top of her voice:
"Help! Police!"
The first porter was exasperated.
"It's unfortunate to be taken for thieves," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Look here, Auguste, just run down to the corner of the street and bring back a gendarme. The gentleman can explain to the concierge in his presence, and then we shall be at liberty to get on with our job."
Auguste hastened to obey, and several tense moments passed, during which not a single word was exchanged between the three people who were left together.
Then heavy steps were heard, and Auguste reappeared with a gendarme. The latter came swaggering into the room with a would-be majestic air, and solemnly and pompously enquired: