"Perenna alive! Why, we had lost all sight of you when I left Morocco! We
thought you dead."

"I was a prisoner, that's all."

"A prisoner of the tribesmen; the same thing!"

"Not quite, Major; one can escape from anywhere. The proof stands
before you."

The Prefect of Police, yielding to an irresistible attraction to resist,
spent some seconds in examining that powerful face, with the smiling
glance, the frank and resolute eyes, and the bronzed complexion, which
looked as if it had been baked and baked again by the sun.

Then, motioning to his visitors to take chairs around his desk, M.
Desmalions himself sat down and made a preliminary statement in clear and
deliberate tones:

"The summons, gentlemen, which I addressed to each of you, must have
appeared to you rather peremptory and mysterious. And the manner in which
I propose to open our conversation is not likely to diminish your
surprise. But if you will attach a little credit to my method, you will
soon realize that the whole thing is very simple and very natural. I will
be as brief as I can."

He spread before him the bundle of documents prepared for him by his
secretary and, consulting his notes as he spoke, continued:

"Over fifty years ago, in 1860, three sisters, three orphans, Ermeline,