Paul woke of himself. He said to his wife and Bernard:
"You know, you're coming, too. It will be rough work, Élisabeth, very rough work. Are you certain that you're equal to it?"
"Oh, Paul . . . But you yourself are looking so pale."
"Yes," he said, "it's the excitement. Not because of what is going to happen. But, in spite of all my precautions, I shall be afraid until the last moment that the adversary will escape. A single act of carelessness, a stroke of ill-luck that gives the alarm . . . and I shall have to begin all over again. . . . Never mind about your revolver, Bernard."
"What!" cried Bernard. "Isn't there going to be any fighting in this expedition of yours?"
Paul did not reply. According to his custom, he expressed himself during or after action. Bernard took his revolver.
The last stroke of nine sounded as they crossed the Grande Place, amid a darkness stabbed here and there by a thin ray of light issuing from a closed shop. A group of soldiers were massed in the forecourt of the cathedral, whose shadowy bulk they felt looming overhead.
Paul flashed the light from an electric lamp upon them and asked the one in command:
"No, sir. No one has entered the house and no one has gone out."
The sergeant gave a low whistle. In the middle of the street, two men emerged from the surrounding gloom and approached the group.
Then Paul marched ahead and, while the others, in obedience to his instructions, followed him without making the least noise, he stepped on resolutely, like a belated wayfarer making for home.
They stopped at a narrow-fronted house, the ground-floor of which was hardly distinguishable in the darkness of the night. Three steps led to the door. Paul gave four sharp taps and, at the same time, took a key from his pocket and opened the door.
He switched on his electric lamp again in the passage and, while his companions continued as silent as before, turned to a mirror which rose straight from the flagged floor. He gave four little taps on the mirror and then pushed it, pressing one side of it. It masked the aperture of a staircase which led to the basement; and Paul sent the light of his lantern down the well.
This appeared to be a signal, the third signal agreed upon, for a voice from below, a woman's voice, but hoarse and rasping in its tones, asked: