long cloak and immense sombrero, wore them no longer. Probably
he had rid himself of them by casting them among the bramble bushes on
the waste ground around rue Docteur Blanche.... Now he was clad in a
long black knitted garment moulded tightly to his figure, a sinister
garment, by means of which the wearer can blend with the darkness so as
to be almost indistinguishable. His face was entirely concealed by a
long black hood, a movable mask, which prevented his features being
seen: through two slits gleamed two eyeballs: they might have burned a
way through like glowing coals.

"Master!... Master!" murmured Jules. "What are you going to do now?"

This spectral figure replied in a low tone:

"Fool!... go on in front--or no--better follow me! And not a sound--it's
as much as your skin is worth!... Take care--great care!"

The two men advanced in silence. But, while Jules seemed to take
exaggerated precautions to prevent being heard, his companion seemed
naturally shod with silence.

He advanced noiselessly, almost invisible in his black garment.

The two accomplices were soon at the front-door steps of the house.

"Open," commanded the master.

Jules slipped a key into the lock: noiselessly the door turned on its
hinges.

"Listen," whispered the cloaked man. "Half-way up the stairs, you must
stop: I do not wish you to go right up...."

"But..."

"Do as I say! You must keep watch.... If, by chance, you should hear a
noise, if I were to be taken by surprise, you must go downstairs, making
a great noise and shouting at the top of your voice: 'Stop him!... Stop
him!...' Thus, in the first moment of confusion, everyone will rush
after you, and that will give me time to choose my way of escape."

Jules, whatever his fears, did not dare to question his instructions.

"Very good, master," he breathed. "I'll do as you say."

"I should think you would," scoffed his master, almost inaudibly.

Leaving his accomplice on the stairs, the masked man went forward. He
seemed to know the ins and outs of the house, for he turned into the
corridor and, without a moment's hesitation, walked towards the door of
Elizabeth Dollon's room. He put his ear against it.

"She sleeps," he murmured.

He had inserted a key in the lock: there was an obstacle to its easy
entrance.

"Confound it! The girl has left her own key in the lock!" he said
softly.... "What the deuce am I to do now? What did Jules do when he got
in and put out t