him and satisfied himself that nothing had been
taken away or moved. The room, for that matter, contained no knick-knack
of any value, no important paper that might have explained the
woman's visit, followed by her sudden disappearance. And yet why that
inexplicable flight?

"Has any one telephoned?" he asked.

"No."

"Any letters?"

"Yes, one letter by the last post."

"Where is it?"

"I put it on your mantel-piece, governor, as usual."

Lupin's bedroom was next to the drawing-room, but Lupin had permanently
bolted the door between the two. He, therefore, had to go through the
hall again.

Lupin switched on the electric light and, the next moment, said:

"I don't see it..."

"Yes... I put it next to the flower-bowl."

"There's nothing here at all."

"You must be looking in the wrong place, governor."

But Achille moved the bowl, lifted the clock, bent down to the grate, in
vain: the letter was not there.

"Oh blast it, blast it!" he muttered. "She's done it... she's taken
it... And then, when she had the letter, she cleared out... Oh, the
slut!..."

Lupin said:

"You're mad! There's no way through between the two rooms."

"Then who did take it, governor?"

They were both of them silent. Lupin strove to control his anger and
collect his ideas. He asked:

"Did you look at the envelope?"

"Yes."

"Anything particular about it?"

"Yes, it looked as if it had been written in a hurry, or scribbled,
rather."

"How was the address worded?... Do you remember?" asked Lupin, in a
voice strained with anxiety.

"Yes, I remembered it, because it struck me as funny..."

"But speak, will you? Speak!"

"It said, 'Monsieur de Beaumont, Michel.'"

Lupin took his servant by the shoulders and shook him:

"It said 'de' Beaumont? Are you sure? And 'Michel' after 'Beaumont'?"

"Quite certain."

"Ah!" muttered Lupin, with a choking throat. "It was a letter from
Gilbert!"

He stood motionless, a little pale, with drawn features. There was no
doubt about it: the letter was from Gilbert. It was the form of address
which, by Lupin's orders, Gilbert had used for years in corresponding
with him. Gilbert had at last--after long waiting and by dint of endless
artifices--found a means of getting a letter posted from his prison and
had hastily written to him. And now the letter was intercepted! What did
it say? What instructions had the unhappy prisoner given? What help was
he praying for? What stratagem did