“I cannot now enter into his history, which you no 
doubt know in any case.  I will only say that it was of 
such a character that these facts (of so curiously contra-
dictory appearance—on the face of it) apply abso-
lutely.  However the tone of confidence which thrilled in 
Dodu’s messages, ‘Pluck grapes in Burgundy; press vats 
in Cognac; ha!’  ‘The souffle with the nuts in it is ready 
for us by the Seine,’ and the like, showed me that his 
giant brain had not only grappled with the problem, but 
solved it to his satisfaction.  The plan was perfect; on 
the night of the eclipse those three guards would be on 
duty at such and such gates; Dodu would tear his 
clothes into strips, bind and gag Bertrand, come and 
release me.  Together we should spring on Rolland, take 
his uniform and rifle, and leave him bound and 
gagged.  We should then dash for the shore, do the 
same with Monet, and then, dressed in their uniforms, 
take the boat of an octopus-fisher, row to the harbour, 
and ask in the name of the governor for the use of his 
steam yacht to chase an escaped fugitive.  We should 
then steam into the track of ships and set fire to the 
yacht, so as to be ‘rescued’ and conveyed to England, 
whence we could arrange with the French Government 
for rehabilitation. 
“Such 
was 
the 
simple 
yet 
subtle 
plan 
of 
Dodu.  Down to the last detail was it perfected—until 
one fatal day. 
“The spy, stricken by yellow fever, dropped suddenly 
dead in the fields before noon ‘Cease work’ had 
sounded.  Instantly, without a moment’s hesitation, 
Dodu strode across to me and said, at the risk of the 
lash:  ‘The whole plan which I have explained to you in 
cipher these last four months is a blind.  That spy knew 
all.  His lips are sealed in death.  I have another plan, 
the real plan, simpler and surer.  I will tell it to you to-
morrow.’ 
The whistle of an approaching engine interrupted 
this tragic episode of the adventures of Duguesclin.