There were symptoms of tears coming, and I saw Emma’s chin quiver. She murmured: “Poor Macbeth!” “Yes,” said Lerne to me by way of answer to my puzzled looks, “Mr. Donovan Macbeth had to give up his duties as a result of some unfortunate occurrences. May Fate spare you such unhappiness, Nicolas!” “And the other?” I asked, in order to turn the conversation. “The other one, he with the brown mustache and whiskers, who is he?” “He’s gone, too.” “Dr. Klotz,” said Emma, who had drawn near us and was regaining her calm. “Otto Klotz; oh, as for him....” Lerne silenced her with a terrible look. I do not know what punishment she foresaw, but a spasm rendered the poor girl rigid. Hereupon Barbe introduced slantwise half of her opulent form and murmured that lunch was on the table. She had only set three places in the dining room; the Germans, I fancied, must live in the gray buildings. The lunch was gloomy. Mlle. Bourdichet never ventured a word, ate nothing, and so I could not make out what was the matter, terror making all creatures alike. Besides, sleepiness was overwhelming me. Immediately after dessert I asked leave to go to bed, begging to be allowed to sleep till the next morning. Once in my room, I immediately began to undress. To tell the truth my journey, the night and the morning had worn me out. All those riddles, too, worried me, first because they _were_ riddles and then because they presented themselves so confusedly. I felt as if I were enveloped in smoke wherein riddling sphinxes kept turning their vague faces towards me. My braces were just going to be flung off--and were _not_ flung off. In the garden Lerne was making his way towards the gray buildings accompanied by his three assistants. “They are going to work in there,” said I to myself. “That’s clear. I am not being watched; they have not had time to take many precautions; uncle is persuaded I am asleep. Nicolas, this is the time for action, now or never. But what to start with? Emma, or the secret? Hum ... the little girl is utterly gorgonized to-day.... As for the secret....” Having put on my coat again, I went mechanically from window to window. There between the wrought-iron stanchions of the balcony the Conservatory showed its mysterious additions. It was shut, forbidden, attractive. I went out stealthily and noiselessly, like a wolf. CHAPTER III THE CONSERVATORY Once outside, and without cover, it seemed to me that everything was spying on me; so I flung myself headlong into a little wood near the conservatory; then through the thorn and creepers I made my way towards my objective. It was very warm. I advanced with great difficulty and taking thousands of precautions to avoid scratches and tell-tale rents. At last the conservatory with its central dome and one of its bulging flanks loomed large before me. It was a side view that first presented itself. I thought it would be wise to reconnoiter it before leaving the shelter of the wood.