Both were stained red, and I turned slightly sick at the sight.

There was blood on my brown boots, too, and the grey tweed clothes which I had not had time to change since arriving in Paris.
I told myself that I must do my best to wash away these tell-tale stains before leaving the room; but first I would look for the treaty.
I began my search by stirring up the mass of scattered papers on the floor, and in spite of the horror which gripped me by the throat, I cried "hurrah!" when, half hidden by the twisted rug, I saw the missing letter-case.

It was lying spread open, back uppermost, and there came an instant of despair when I pounced on it only to find it empty.

But there was the treaty on the floor underneath; and lucky it was that the searchers had thrown it out, for there were gouts of blood on the letter-case, while the treaty was clean and unspotted.
With a sense of unutterable relief which almost made up for everything endured and still to be endured, I slipped the document back into the pocket from which it had been stolen.
At that moment a board creaked in the corridor, and then came a step outside the door.
My blood rushed up to my head.

But it was not of myself I thought; it was of the treaty.