"You were absent from your post, then?"

"No, sir, I was not. I was not away for one moment yesterday."

"And you saw every one who came in and went out?"

"Yes, sir. The Vicomte did go out, but he came in again."

"Came in!" cried Madame and Coucon, together.

"Yes; it was about an hour after that, when you came and told me he had disappeared. I thought that he might have gone out, and I not heeded it."

"And may not this have been so?" asked Fanfar. "If the Vicomte is not in the hotel, he must have gone out, you know."

"I beg to observe, sir, that the Vicomte might have gone out by the small door which communicates directly with his apartment; but every night when I shut up the house I bolt that door, and it is still bolted; so that my young master did not go that way. It is possible, of course, that he could have pa.s.sed my door without my seeing him. I can't always answer for myself; but I have proof that he did not do this."

"What is your proof?"

"Every night I fasten the great door with a chain and padlock and take the key. If any one wishes to go out in the night he must call me. As soon as the Vicomte came in I put up this chain. I a.s.sure you, sir, that I am speaking the truth. At first I was troubled and afraid I had been careless, but since I have collected my ideas, I am sure that I have nothing to reproach myself with."

"Do you mean to say, then," cried Coucon, "that the Vicomte walked through the wall?"

"It is very strange," said Fanfar, thoughtfully. "And now, my friends,"

he added, turning to Coucon and Madame, "you may leave me here with Monsieur Goutran."

"And with me?" added Bobichel.

"You can stay, if you will. I may need you."

"But, Monsieur Fanfar," said poor Madame, "I think we, too, are good for something. You ought not to send us away."

The poor woman was greatly distressed.

"Oh! I have something for you to do. Examine the garden carefully, and if you see the smallest thing that is unusual, come to me instantly."

"There won't be a corner in which I shall not put my nose, be sure of that!" cried Coucon.

"Oh! if the Count were only here!" sighed Madame.

Fanfar was alone with Bobichel and Goutran.

"Have you anything to suggest?" he said, suddenly turning to Goutran.

"Do you know of any secret egress from this hotel?"

"None whatever," answered the artist.

"And yet you will observe that the girl was not carried away by either of the doors that are known, and she is gone!"

"I did not think of that! There is unquestionably some issue known only to the Count."

"Alas! the Count's enemies know it, also," answered Fanfar.

"Let us go to the room that the girl was in--"

"I was about to make that proposal. Now is the time, Bobichel," said Fanfar, turning to the former clown, "to see if we cannot regain a little of our cleverness."

"I am ready, even to go through the eye of a needle, if it be necessary!" answered Bobichel.

Goutran took a candle and led the way. When they reached Jane's room Fanfar took up a position in the centre of it, examined the ceiling, the floor and the walls. Then Bobichel explored every inch of the floor, which was covered with a thick carpet. But nothing could be found.

"This is most extraordinary," murmured Fanfar, "and yet I am convinced that I am on the track."

Suddenly Bobichel uttered an exclamation. "Here is something, master!"

Fanfar and Goutran hastened to him. In one of the silk folds of the hanging on the wall there was a bit of white lace, evidently torn from something.

"I recognize that," said Goutran. "I ordered the peignoirs she required, for we did not wish to admit any one into our secrets; and that lace trimmed one of the peignoirs."

"And now we have it!" shouted Bobichel, inserting the blade of his knife in one of the plaits of the silk.

Fanfar said hastily, "It is an iron door, and there must be a spring.

Let us try, each of us, and feel over the whole wall, if it is necessary."

They went to work, and presently Bobichel was lucky enough to press a little k.n.o.b. A panel slowly opened, and a puff of warm air came full in the eager faces of the anxious men. With the light of their candles they saw a well-finished pa.s.sage and two or three stairs; it was too dark to see more.

"This is the way that Jane was abducted, and this is the way that Esperance went. Let us see where it goes." And Fanfar started first.

Hardly had they reached the stairs than they heard the iron door close behind them. In spite of all their courage, they shuddered. Had the door shut of itself, or had it been closed by some invisible enemy? They turned back hastily, but there was not the smallest sign to be seen of door or spring.

"What had we best do?" asked Goutran, uneasily.

Fanfar reflected a moment. "As we cannot go back, let us hasten forward with all possible speed. We will find the way out."

"Or we will make one!" cried Bobichel.

The three friends started once more, Bobichel in front, holding a heavy bronze candelabra.

CHAPTER LX.

ESPERANCE IN DESPAIR.

It was indeed by this mysterious path that Esperance had gone. When he heard that Jane was not to be found, he at first could hardly comprehend what was said. He ran to Jane's room and looked about, then scarce knowing what he did, he left the house and then returned to it, after having wandered over Paris for two or three hours. No one noticed his pallor when he entered the hotel. He went to Jane's room again, and there, lying back in a low chair, he looked about with sad eyes.

Suddenly he saw a panel slowly open in the wall. He was not afraid.

Esperance did not know the sensation, and now he simply expected some revelation. He instantly knew that this was the path by which Jane had been taken away. He rose and entered the dark corridor. He had no light, and the door at once closed behind him; but he had inherited his father's singular power of seeing in the dark.