Too shrewd not to discern the trap that had been set for him, he endured
some moments of horrible hesitation in the prison-van.
He decided to accept the risk, however, commending himself to his lucky
star.
And he decided wisely, for that same night he leaped his own
garden-wall, leaving, as a hostage, in the hands of Lecoq, an escaped
convict, Joseph Conturier by name, whom he had picked up in a low
drinking-saloon.
Warned by Mme. Milner, thanks to a blunder on the part of Lecoq, Otto
was awaiting his master.
In the twinkling of an eye Martial's beard fell under the razor; he
plunged into the bath that was awaiting him, and his clothing was
burned.
And it was he who, during the search a few minutes later, had the
hardihood to call out:
"Otto, by all means allow these men to do their duty."
But he did not breathe freely until the agents of police had departed.
"At last," he exclaimed, "honor is saved! We have outwitted Lecoq!"
He had just left the bath, and enveloped himself in a _robe de chambre_,
when Otto handed him a letter from the duchess.
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