Then a groom of the stables, Walter, a brave, stupid fellow who was incapable of a single idea, but who had shown for years past the blind devotion of a brute toward his master, Old Bob, passed under the postern of the gardener, entered into the Court of Charles the Bold, and came to us. He held in his hand a letter which he gave to Rouletabille. He handed me another and continued on his way toward the Square Tower. Rouletabille, calling after him, inquired what errand was taking him to the Square Tower. He answered that he was taking the mail for M. and Mme. Darzac to Pere Bernier. He spoke in English for Walter understood no other language; but we spoke it well enough to understand him and make him understand. Walter was charged with distributing the mail because Pere Jacques had no right to leave his lodge on any account. Rouletabille took the letters from the man’s hands and said to him that he would take it in himself. A few drops of water had begun to fall. We turned to the door of M. Darzac’s room. Bernier was smoking his pipe in the corridor, sitting astride a chair. “Is M. Darzac still there?” asked Rouletabille. “He hasn’t stirred since he went in,” Bernier replied. We knocked. We heard the heavy bolt drawn from the inside. (These bolts can only be used by the person within the room.) M. Darzac was writing letters when we entered. He had been seated beside the little reading table facing the door R. Now mark well all our movements. Rouletabille complained that the letter which he held in his hand confirmed the telegram which he had received in the morning and pressed him to return to Paris. His paper insisted upon his proceeding at once to Russia. M. Darzac read indifferently the two or three letters which we had brought him and put them in his pocket. I held out to Rouletabille the letter which I had received. It was from my friend in Paris who, after having given me some important details regarding the departure of Brignolles, informed me that the laboratory assistant had left his address for mail to be forwarded to Sospel, the Hotel des Alps. This was extremely interesting and M. Darzac and Rouletabille were greatly excited over it. We decided to go to Sospel as soon as it could be arranged and, after talking of the matter for a few minutes, we went out of the room. The door of Mme. Darzac’s sleeping room was not closed. Here is what we noticed as we passed out: I have mentioned that Mme. Darzac was not in her own room. As soon as we made our exit, Pere Bernier immediately--immediately, I say, for I saw him--turned the key in the lock and then took it out and put it in his pocket--in the little inside pocket of his waistcoat. Ah, I can still see him putting the key into his inside pocket--I swear it!--and he buttoned his coat over it!