on the point of leaving, when M. Desmalions entered briskly.
"Ah, so you're still here, Don Luis Perenna! I'm glad of that. I have an idea: those three letters which you say you made out on the writing-table, are you sure they form the syllable Fau?"
"I think so, Monsieur le Préfet. See for yourself: are not these an 'F,' an 'A' and a 'U?' And observe that the 'F' is a capital, which made me suspect that the letters are the first syllable of a proper name."
"Just so, just so," said M. Desmalions. "Well, curiously enough, that syllable happens to be But wait, we'll verify our facts"
M. Desmalions searched hurriedly among the letters which his secretary had handed him on his arrival and which lay on a corner of the table.
"Ah, here we are!" he exclaimed, glancing at the signature of one of the letters. "Here we are! It's as I thought: 'Fauville.'… The first syllable is the same.… Look, 'Fauville,' just like that, without Christian name or initials. The letter must have been written in a feverish moment: there is no date nor address.… The writing is shaky"
And M. Desmalions read out:
"Monsieur le Préfet:
"A great danger is hanging over my head and over the head of my son. Death is approaching apace. I shall have to-night, or to-morrow morning at the latest, the proofs of the abominable plot that threatens us. I ask leave to bring them to you in the course of the morning. I am in need of protection and I call for your assistance.
"Permit me to be, etc. Fauville."
