I reclosed my window.

Again the sound of the cat's weird cry in the distance.

I partly dressed in haste.

The weather was too bad for even a cat to be turned out in it.

What did it mean, then--that imitating of the mewing of Mother Angenoux' cat so near the chateau?
I seized a good-sized stick, the only weapon I had, and, without making any noise, opened the door.
"The gallery into which I went was well lit by a lamp with a reflector.
I felt a keen current of air and, on turning, found the window open, at the extreme end of the gallery, which I call the 'off-turning' gallery, to distinguish it from the 'right' gallery, on to which the apartment of Mademoiselle Stangerson opened.