When I went softly to my bedroom he was still sniffing at the study door. I must have slept a couple of hours only when my door handle was quietly turned, and, being a light sleeper, I became aware of a presence in the room before a touch was laid upon my shoulder. It was Madame de Clericy. "Where is my husband?" she asked, and added: "I thought he was sitting up with you." "No; I have been alone all the evening," answered I, with a quick feeling of uneasiness. "I do not think that he is in the house at all," said Madame, moving towards the door. "Will you get up and dress? You will find me in the morning-room." Lighting my candle, this woman of few words left me. The dawn was creeping up over the opposite roof and through the open window; the freshness of the March air made me shiver as I hurried into my clothes. In the morning-room I found Madame de Clericy. "Mother," Lucille had once said to me, "always rises to the occasion, but the process is not visible." "Come quietly," said Madame, speaking, as indeed was her habit in regard to myself, with a certain kindness and sympathy--"come quietly; for Lucille is asleep. I have been to see." She took it for granted that she and I should consider Lucille before all else, and the assumption gave me pleasure. Although she said "Come," she stood aside and allowed me to lead the way. We naturally went first to the study. The door was locked. At the entrance from my own room we were again met by bars. "Can you break it open?" asked Madame. "Not without noise. Let us make sure that he is not elsewhere in the house first." Together we went up and down the old dwelling, and I traversed many corridors and chambers for the first time. We found nothing. It was beginning to get light when we returned to my study. "Shall I break open the door?" I asked, when I had unbarred the shutters. "Yes," answered Madame. The door was a solid one of walnut, and not to be broken open by mere pressure. While I was moving some of the chairs in order to give myself a run, Lucille came into the room. She had hurried on a dressing-gown and her hair was all down her back, but she was much too simple-minded to think that such things mattered at such a moment. "What is it?" she cried. "What _are_ you doing?" Madame explained, and the two stood hand in hand while I made ready to burst in upon the mystery that lay behind that closed door. I took a run, and brought my shoulder to bear just above the lock, wrenching the four screws out of the wood by the force of the blow. I staggered into the dark passage beyond, with a sore shoulder and my heart in my mouth. Madame and Lucille followed. I tried the handle of the door leading from the passage to the Vicomte's study. The key had not been turned. "I will go in alone," I said, laying a hand on Madame's arm, who gave me a candle and made no attempt to follow me.