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A gas-jet was flaring in the hall.

“You see, governor...” said Gilbert.

“Yes, yes,” said Lupin, in a low voice, “but it seems to me that the light which I saw shining did not come from here...”

“Where did it come from then?”

“I can’t say... Is this the drawing-room?”

“No,” replied Gilbert, who was not afraid to speak pretty loudly, “no. By way of precaution, he keeps everything on the first floor, in his bedroom and in the two rooms on either side of it.”

“And where is the staircase?”

“On the right, behind the curtain.”

Lupin moved to the curtain and was drawing the hanging aside when, suddenly, at four steps on the left, a door opened and a head appeared, a pallid man’s head, with terrified eyes.

“Help! Murder!” shouted the man.

And he rushed back into the room.

“It’s Leonard, the valet!” cried Gilbert.

“If he makes a fuss, I’ll out him,” growled Vaucheray.

“You’ll jolly well do nothing of the sort, do you hear, Vaucheray?” said Lupin, peremptorily. And he darted off in pursuit of the servant. He first went through a dining-room, where he saw a lamp still lit, with plates and a bottle around it, and he found Leonard at the further end of a pantry, making vain efforts to open the window: