Yvette was to be imprisoned.

The taxi was still outside the door when he got back to the Koeniggratzer-strasse. As an excuse for waiting he feigned engine trouble and tinkered with his machine, keeping all the time a close watch on the door opposite.

He had not long to wait. In about half an hour Yvette was brought out, still in the custody of Kranzler, and driven away. Jules followed, and, at length, had the satisfaction of knowing that Yvette was in the big prison outside Spandau. It was a melancholy satisfaction, it is true, but to know where she was was of supreme importance.

Driving to Gaston’s farm he soon informed Verdun where Yvette was located and then turned to discuss the position with Gaston.

To his intense surprise and delight, Gaston was able to give him some comfort.

“Of course, it is a great misfortune,” he said, “but it might be worse. They have taken her to the one prison in Germany where we have been able to keep a thoroughly trustworthy agent. He is a warder who passes as Herman Fuchs; his real name is Pierre Latour. We shall soon know all about Mademoiselle.”

The front of the prison was in dear view from Gaston’s farm. Going outside, he called on Jules to help him to move one of three large barrels, each containing a big flowering shrub, which stood side by side in front of the house facing the prison. One of these was taken away, leaving only two.

“We shall have Pierre over here this evening,” Gaston chuckled. “That’s the signal that I want him.”

Sure enough, soon after dark, Pierre appeared. A few words explained the situation. He was off duty now for the night and free to do as he pleased.

“Leave it to me,” he said. “I will be back in an hour.”

He returned with a rough plan of the section of the prison in which Yvette was confined. Her cell occupied a corner on the first floor at the head of a flight of steps leading down to the big courtyard. If Yvette could get out of her cell it would be an easy matter to reach the door leading to the yard. But to get over the high wall, quite unclimbable, was a difficult problem. The entrance from the roadway was always guarded by two warders who occupied little separate lodges placed one each side the gateway.

“I can get her out of her cell,” said Pierre, “but how to get her out of the yard I don’t know. I can get a false key to her during the 

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