Nor, indeed, was there, save an umbrella-rack, a hatstand, and an engraving of the Queen’s Coronation--things which had no importance for the Duke. “They are only what one might expect,” said he. Yet he persevered and began to mount the stairs with a silent cautious tread. He had not felt it necessary to put on the policeman’s boots, and his thin-soled well-made boots neither creaked nor crunched as he climbed, resting one hand on the balustrade and holding his lantern in the other. Yet suddenly something touched his hand, and a bell rang out, loud, clear and tinkling. A moment later came a scream; the Duke paused in some bewilderment. Then he mounted a few more steps till he was on the landing. A door to his right was cautiously opened; an old gentleman’s head appeared. “Thank heaven, it’s the police!” cried the old gentleman. Then he pulled his head in and said, “Only the police, my dear.” Then he put his head out again and asked, “What in the world is the matter? I thought you were burglars when I heard the alarm.” “Your hall door was standing open,” said the Duke accusingly. “Tut, tut, tut! How very careless of me, to be sure! And I thought I locked it! Actually open! Dear me! I’m much obliged to you.” A look of disappointment had by now spread over the Duke’s face. “Didn’t you leave it open on purpose?” he asked. “Come now! You can trust me.” “On purpose? Do you take me for a fool?” cried the old gentleman. “A man who leaves his door open on purpose may or may not be a fool,” said the Duke. “But there is no doubt about a man who leaves it open without a purpose,” and, so saying, the Duke turned, walked downstairs, and, going out, slammed the door behind him. He was deeply disgusted. When, however, he had recovered a little from his chagrin, he began to pace up and down the lane. It was now past midnight, and all was very quiet. The Duke began to fear that Fortune, never weary of tormenting him, meant to deny all its interest to his experiment. But suddenly, when he was exactly opposite his own house, he observed a young man standing in front of it. The stranger was tall and well made; he wore a black cloth Inverness, which, hanging open at the throat, showed a white tie and a snowy shirt front. The young man seemed to be gazing thoughtfully at the Duke’s villa. The Duke walked quietly up to him, as though he meant to pass by. The young man, however, perceiving him, turned to him and said: “It’s very annoying, but I have lost my latchkey, and I don’t know how to get into my house.” “Indeed, sir?” said the Duke sympathetically. “Which is your house?” “This,” answered the young man, pointing to the Duke’s villa. The Duke could not entirely repress a slight movement of surprise and pleasure. “This your house? Then you are----?” he began. “Yes, yes, the Duke of Belleville,” interrupted the young man. “But there’s nobody in the house. I’m not expected----” “I suppose not,” murmured the Duke.