The car had hardly been brought out into the sunlight before a cry of stupefaction burst from the lips of Perrichet.
"Oh!" he cried, in utter abasement.

"I shall never forgive myself--never, never!" "Why ?" Hanaud asked, turning sharply as he spoke.
Perrichet was standing with his round eyes staring and his mouth agape.
"Because, monsieur, I saw that car--at four o'clock this morning--at the corner of the road--not fifty yards from the Villa Rose." "What!" cried Ricardo.
"You saw it!" exclaimed Wethermill.
Upon their faces was reflected now the stupefaction of Perrichet.
"But you must have made a mistake," said the Commissaire.
"No, no, monsieur," Perrichet insisted.

"It was that car.

It was that number.

It was just after daylight.