The vituperation which Rodolphe Wolf heaped upon me I need not repeat. Suffice it to say that during the few minutes which elapsed while we faced one another in that narrow way, each unable to move, he invoked upon my head all the curses of the evil one, vowing a revenge swift and terrible, not only upon myself, but also upon Léonie and Edith.
With a suddenness that startled all of us, however, there was a loud crashing of glass in the room behind him, and, thus taken by surprise, he turned to see how it had been caused.
In an instant Chick had sprung up the stairs, and we were both upon him. The spy fired his revolver, but at random, and the bullet pierced the ceiling. The inspector closed with him in deadly embrace, and a second later was assisted by one of the detectives, who had broken the window and entered the room by a ladder.
The fellow still held his weapon in a desperate grasp, and, having succeeded in pinning Chick against the wall, raised the revolver to his face. At that instant the other officer threw himself upon the pair. Wolf’s revolver exploded, but the bullet, instead of entering Chick’s head, penetrated the spy’s own neck, close behind the ear.
“Dieu!” he shrieked, “I’m shot! I’ve shot myself!” and as his grip relaxed, the two detectives allowed him to stagger and fall back upon the ground.
In endeavouring to murder the inspector he had inflicted a fatal wound upon himself.
Chick, who had had such a narrow escape from death, only brushed his clothes here and there, and remarked with a smile:
“That was pretty tough, sir, wasn’t it?”
Then, ordering his assistant to look after the wounded prisoner, we both searched the room. At first we saw nothing to account for Wolf resisting our progress so desperately. It was a bare place, with a couple of tables, a chair or two, and a few papers that had been strewn about in the struggle. I picked up some. They were copies of the Figaro, the Libre Parole, and the Petit Journal.
But in a corner by the fireplace, I saw a twisted heap of pale-green paper, like ribbon, and a moment later found beneath the table a broken telegraph-receiver. On taking it up I saw upon the small brass plate the words “General Post Office,” while near it lay the other portions of the apparatus, which was one of those which print upon the paper ribbon, and are worked by clockwork.