The door, which had been forced open against the wall, could not conceal anything behind it, as we assured ourselves.

By the window, still in every way secured, no flight had been possible.

What then ?--I began to believe in the Devil.
"'But we discovered my revolver on the floor!--Yes, my revolver! Oh! that brought me back to the reality! The Devil would not have needed to steal my revolver to kill Mademoiselle.

The man who had been there had first gone up to my attic and taken my revolver from the drawer where I kept it.

We then ascertained, by counting the cartridges, that the assassin had fired two shots.