He stepped quickly to it--the sooner he was within the house the
better--pushed the door open and entered. As soon as he was inside he
tried to close the entrance behind him, but he found he could not; the
door would not shut. After a brief trial he abandoned the attempt and
passed quickly on, through a bare lighted passage which led to the foot
of a staircase, equally bare. He stood at this point an instant and
listened, in the hope that Madame's maid would come to him. At first he
heard nothing save his own breathing; then a gruff voice from above
startled him.
"This way, Monsieur," it said. "You are early, but not too soon!"
So Madame trusted her footman! M. de Tignonville shrugged his shoulders;
but after all, it was no affair of his, and he went up. Halfway to the
top, however, he stood, an oath on his lips. Two men had entered by the
open door below--even as he had entered! And as quietly!
The imprudence of it! The imprudence of leaving the door so that it
could not be closed! He turned, and descended to meet them, his teeth
set, his hand on his sword, one conjecture after another whirling in his
brain. Was he beset? Was it a trap? Was it a rival? Was it chance?
Two steps he descended; and then the voice he had heard before cried
again, but more imperatively--
"No, Monsieur, this way! Did you not hear me? This way, and be quick,
if you please.
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