She acquiesced at once, and led the way to a small anteroom behind the drawing-room. It was furnished gaudily and cheaply, but quite in keeping with the rest of the house.
As he closed, the door, Pierre said—
“I’ve some good news.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Victor has fallen into the trap.”
“Arrested?”
“Yes.”
“Hurrah!” she cried, almost dancing for joy; “now we are safely rid of him we shall have nothing to fear. But, tell me, how did you manage to carry out the suggestion?”
“It was quite simple. We met in London three weeks ago, and I told him that he was running a great risk in remaining there, because the girl Vivian had discovered that it was he who gave her the little gash in the throat, and that she had placed the matter in the hands of the police. He asked my advice as to where he should go, and, of course, I suggested Paris. We arranged to go over separately, and meet at the old place a week later. He went, and as he stepped from the train at the St. Lazare he fell into the inviting arms of that vulture Chémerault.”
“You had previously given information, I suppose?”