been found in Mole's cell? No, no! Such an admission would not only be
foolish, it would be dangerous now, whilst he himself was scarce
prepared to trust to his own senses. After all, Fouquier-Tinville was in
the right frame of mind for the moment. Paul Mole, whoever he was, was
safely under lock and key.

The only danger lay in the direction of the house on the Chemin de
Pantin. At the thought Chauvelin felt giddy and faint. But he would
allow himself no rest. Indeed, he could not have rested until something
approaching certainty had once more taken possession of his soul. He
could not--would not--believe that he had been deceived. He was still
prepared to stake his very life on the identity of the prisoner at the
Abbaye. Tricks of light, the flash of the lantern, the perfection of the
disguise, had caused a momentary illusion--nothing more.

Nevertheless, that awful feeling of restlessness which had possessed him
during the last twenty-four hours once more drove him to activity. And
although commonsense and reason both pulled one way, an eerie sense of
superstition whispered in his ear the ominous words, "If, after all!"

At any rate, he would see the Leridans, and once more make sure of them;
and, late as was the hour, he set out for the lonely house on the Pantin
Road.

Just inside the Barriere du Combat was the Poste de Section, where
Commissary Burban was under orders to provide a dozen men of the Surete,
who were to be on the watch round and about the house of the Leridans.
Chauvelin called in on the Commissary, who assured him that the men were
at their post.