I knocked
louder, but still there was no answer. I don't know why I opened the
door instead of going away; perhaps I had some kind of presentiment. Oh,
I shall never forget the shock I had when I saw my poor dear mistress
lying dead at the foot of her bed, steeped in blood, and with such a
horrible gash in her throat that for a moment I thought her head was
severed from the trunk."

The police sergeant corroborated the steward's story.

"The murder certainly was committed with peculiarly horrible violence,
sir," he remarked. "The body shows that the victim was struck with the
utmost fury. The murderer must have gone mad over the corpse from sheer
lust of blood. The wounds are shocking."

"Knife wounds?" M. de Presles asked.

"I don't know," said the sergeant uncertainly. "Your worship can form
your own opinion."

The magistrate followed the steward into the room where Dollon had taken
care that nothing was touched.

In its furniture and general arrangement Mme. de Langrune's room
corresponded with the character of the old lady. It was large, and
quietly furnished with old presses, arm-chairs, chairs and old-fashioned
tables. It was evident that she had had no liking for modern fashions,
but had preferred to have her own room stamped with the rather severe,
yet very comfortable character of former days.

The whole of one side of the room was filled by the Marquise's bed. It
was large, and raised upon a kind of dais covered with a carpet of
subdued tones. At the foot of the bed, on the right, was a large window,
fastened half open despite the keen cold, no doubt for hygienic reasons.
In the middle of the room was a round mahogany table with a few small
articles upon it, a blotting-pad, books and so on. In one corner a large
crucifix was suspended from the wall with a prie-Dieu in front of it,
the velvet of which had been worn white by the old lady's knees.
Finally, a little further away, was a small escritoire, half open now,
with its drawers gaping and papers scattered on the floor.

There were only two ways of ingress into the room: one by the door
through which the magistrate had entered, which opened on to the main
corridor on the first floor, and the other by a door communicating with
the Marquise's dressing-room; this dressing-room was lighted by a large
window, which was shut.

The magistrate was shocked by the spectacle presented by the corpse of
the Marquise. It was lying on its back on the floor, with