This woman had begun to entertain doubts as to Derues' honesty, and as
she was leaving Paris the next day, had resolved to get the papers out of
his hands.

"Open the door," she repeated. "Don't you know my voice?"

"I am sorry I cannot let you in. My servant is out: she has taken the
key and locked the door outside."

"You must let me in," the woman continued; "it is absolutely necessary I
should speak to you."

"Come to-morrow."

"I leave Paris to-morrow, and I must have those papers to-night."

He again refused, but she spoke firmly and decidedly. "I must come in.
The porter said you were all out, but, from the rue des Menetriers I
could see the light in your room. My brother is with me, and I left him
below. I shall call him if you don't open the door."

"Come in, then," said Derues; "your papers are in the sitting-room. Wait
here, and I will fetch them." The woman looked at him and took his hand.
"Heavens! how pale you are! What is the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter: will you wait here? "But she would not release
his arm, and followed him into the sitting-room, where Derues began to
seek hurriedly among the various papers which covered a table. "Here
they are," he said; "now you can go."