CHAPTER V. Mrs. Renaud's story.

We found Mosir Hote awaiting us in the hall, and we all proceeded upstairs together.

François, marching ahead to show us the way, Polro went up in a zigzag fashion which

puzzled me, until he whispered with a grimace.

No wonder the servants heard Mosir Renaud mounting the stairs, not a board of them but

creeks fit to wake the dead.

At the head of the staircase a small passage branched off.

The servants' quarters explained backs.

We continued along the corridor, and François tapped on the last door to the right of it.

A faint voice bait us enter, and we passed into a large, sunny apartment looking out towards

the sea, which showed blue and sparkling about a quarter of a mile distant.

On a couch propped up with cushions and attended by Dr. Durand, Lea tall, striking looking

woman.

She was middle-aged, and her once dark hair was now almost entirely silvered.

But the intense vitality and strength of her personality would have made itself felt

anywhere.

She greeted us with a dignified inclination of the head.

Pray be seated, Mosios.

We took chairs, and the magistrates clerk established himself at a round table.

I hope, Madame, began Monsieur Hote, that it will not distress you unduly to relate to

us what occurred last night.

Not at all, Mosios.

...