The discarded servant was just the right sort of spy to watch the suspected master.

Thus it happened that, in the office of the Secret Police at Paris, and under the Reign of Terror, Lomaque's old master was, nominally, his master still--the superintendent to whom he was ceremonially accountable, in public--the suspected man, whose slightest words and deeds he was officially set to watch, in private.
Ever sadder and darker grew the face of Lomaque as he now pondered alone over the changes and misfortunes of the past five years.

A neighboring church-clock striking the hour of seven aroused him from his meditations.

He arranged the confused mass of papers before him--looked toward the door, as if expecting some one to enter--then, finding himself still alone, recurred to the one special paper which had first suggested his long train of gloomy thoughts.

The few lines it contained were signed in cipher, and ran thus: "You are aware that your superintendent, Danville, obtained leave of absence last week to attend to some affairs of his at Lyons, and that he is not expected back just yet for a day or two.