CHAPTER XXI.
THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES The door opened, and in came Charolais, bearing a tray.
"Here's your breakfast, master," he said.
"Don't call me master--that's how his men address Guerchard.

It's a disgusting practice," said Lupin severely.
Victoire and Charolais were quick laying the table.

Charolais kept up a running fire of questions as he did it; but Lupin did not trouble to answer them.

He lay back, relaxed, drawing deep breaths.

Already his lips had lost their greyness, and were pink; there was a suggestion of blood under the skin of his pale face.