In my heart, I never thought that they were sleeping, but could see no explanation of their silence. Madame von Gaden assented readily to my proposal, and I followed her up the stairs. Arriving at the second floor, she led me along a short hall to the right, and pausing before a closed door, tapped on it lightly with her finger. “These are the rooms, M. de Brousson,” she said, and I saw the reflection of my own apprehension on her face. She stood aside, and I knocked on the door, receiving no response. Then, thoroughly alarmed, I took the hilt of my sword, and struck the panel with considerable force. The blow echoed through the quiet house; but there was no response from within, not the slightest movement. Madame had grown very pale, and stood with her hand on her heart. “Is there any other way of approaching these apartments?” I asked abruptly. She started violently, as if with a sudden recollection. “The secret staircase!” she exclaimed at once, staring at me in blank amazement. “_Ma foi!_” I cried, pushed beyond all patience. “Explain yourself, madame. This is a serious matter.” “Alas!” she replied with equal excitement. “Do I not know it? But it is impossible that any one should find the secret staircase from without, and surely they would not go away themselves without informing us.” “Either show me the staircase, madame,” I said, “or permit me to force the door.” “Force it by all means, monsieur,” she replied hastily; “it is the shortest way. I wish that Dr. von Gaden had not gone out.”