He found him behind the villa, in the clumps of shrubs facing the window with the balcony. "You're by yourself?" said Bernard, anxiously. "Yes, the job failed. Élisabeth was in an earlier motor." "What an awful thing!" "Yes, but it can be put right. And you . . . what about the chauffeur?" "He's safely hidden away. No one will see him . . . at least not before the morning, when other chauffeurs come to the garage." "Very well. Anything else?" "There was a patrol in the grounds an hour ago. I managed to keep out of sight." "And then?" "Then I made my way as far as the tunnel. The men were beginning to stir. Besides, there was something that made them jolly well pull themselves together!" "What was that?" "The sudden arrival of a certain person of our acquaintance, the woman I met at Corvigny, who is so remarkably like Major Hermann." "Was she going the rounds?" "No, she was leaving." "Yes, I know, she means to leave." "She has left." "Oh, nonsense! I can't believe that. There was no immediate hurry about her departure for France." "I saw her go, though." "How? By what road?" "The tunnel, of course! Do you imagine that the tunnel serves no further purpose? That was the road she took, before my eyes, under the most comfortable conditions, in an electric trolley driven by a brakesman. No doubt, since the object of her journey was, as you say, to get to France, they shunted her on to the Corvigny branch. That was two hours ago. I heard the trolley come back." The disappearance of the Comtesse Hermine was a fresh blow to Paul. How was he now to find, how to deliver Élisabeth? What clue could he trust in this darkness, in which each of his efforts was ending in disaster? He pulled himself together, made an act of will and resolved to persevere in the adventure until he attained his object. He asked Bernard if he had seen nothing more. "No, nothing." "Nobody going or coming in the garden?" "No. The servants have gone to bed. The lights are out." "All the lights?" "All except one, there, over our heads." The light was on the first floor, at a window situated above the window through which Paul had watched Prince Conrad's supper-party. He asked: "Was that light put on while I was up on the balcony?" "Yes, towards the end." "From what I was told," Paul muttered, "that must be Prince Conrad's room. He's drunk and had to be carried upstairs." "Yes, I saw some shadows at that time; and nothing has moved since." "He's evidently sleeping off his champagne. Oh, if one could only see, if one could get into the room!" "That's easily done," said Bernard. "How?" "Through the next room, which must be the dressing-room. They've left the window open, no doubt to give the prince a little air." "But I should want a ladder . . ." "There's one hanging on the wall of the coach-house. Shall I get it for you?" "Yes, do," said Paul eagerly. "Be quick."