"I've given them something to think over! They'll hesitate—and while they hesitate, we must act. It would have been fatal for them to have met Ena—and especially to-night—of all nights!"
Ten minutes later he was back in Ena Pollen's room, where she was sitting with Lilla.
"What's happened?" asked his wife, for the paleness of his countenance betrayed that something was amiss.
"Oh! nothing—nothing serious, I mean!" was his reply. "Get me a liqueur brandy," he stammered.
Ena went at once to the dining-room and brought a little glass of old cognac, which he swallowed at a gulp, and then sat for a few moments staring straight before him.
"Tell us, Bernie. What's happened? Where have you been?" demanded his wife.
"Been! I—well, I've been right into the camp of the enemy!" he said hoarsely.
"Enemy! What enemy?"
"Céline is here. Wants to see you. The fellow Galtier is with her. They are on the track of old Martin, and want to see you!"
The two women exchanged glances, for the light in the faces of both had died out.