"The man must have joined his confederates."

"Impossible!" cried Victor. "I was here while mademoiselle and
Albert still had him in view."

"Nonsense, he must be somewhere! Outside or inside: we have no
choice!"

"He is here," the servants insisted, obstinately.

The magistrate shrugged his shoulders and went back to the house in
a more or less sullen mood. There was no doubt that it was an
unpromising case. A theft in which nothing had been stolen; an
invisible prisoner: what could be less satisfactory?

It was late. M. de Gesvres asked the officials and the two
journalists to stay to lunch. They ate in silence and then M.
Filleul returned to the drawing room, where he questioned the
servants. But the sound of a horse's hoofs came from the courtyard
and, a moment after, the gendarme who had been sent to Dieppe
entered.

"Well, did you see the hatter?" exclaimed the magistrate, eager at
last to obtain some positive information.

"I saw M. Maigret. The cap was sold to a cab-driver."

"A cab-driver!"