the entrance
of the hall, a maid was seated upon a stool, reading a book. She rose as
the others approached, and stood respectfully aside.

"Has anything been heard from Noel?" the Ambassador asked. "Has he asked
for anything?"

"Nothing, monsieur. He has been quiet ever since six o'clock, when I
took him his supper."

"What was he doing when you entered?"

"Writing, monsieur. He was sitting at the table, with a pen in his hand,
and he looked up and told me to put the tray on the trunk. 'I shall ask
you to take this letter to Monsieur de Grissac as soon as I have
finished it,' he said. Since then I have heard nothing from him."

Duvall had preceded the Ambassador and Dufrenne to the door at the end
of the short hall, and stood listening intently. In a moment, De Grissac
came up, and, unlocking the door, threw it open. The room was dimly
illuminated by a single candle, which smoked and guttered in its socket,
apparently nearly burned out. Nothing was at first to be seen of the
valet. Duvall stepped forward, then turned quickly and spoke. "Shut the
door, please," he said in a tense voice.

Dufrenne did so, while the Ambassador strode forward and followed
Duvall's gaze with a look of horror. On the floor beside the bed, and to
the far side of the room from the door, lay the body of the unfortunate
valet, his face, ghastly pale, turned toward the ceiling. But it was
neither the sight of the man lying there, apparently dead, nor the
agonized expression of his face, which caused both the Ambassador and
Duvall to start back with exclamations of surprise. Across the man's
lips was a great, dull-red blotch, which at first appeared to be a clot
of blood, but which seemed, from its circular form and regular contour,
more like a huge seal. And seal it was. Duvall, dropping on one knee
beside the body, felt for the man's heart, at the same time looking
closely at the mark upon his lips. He was quite dead, and had apparently
been so for an hour or two. The blot upon his face was a great lump of
red sealing wax, tightly binding together his lips, and upon it was the
coarse imprint of a man's forefingers.

The Ambassador shrank back with a cry, as his eyes fell upon the ghastly
sight. Dufrenne gazed at the dead man impassively. Duvall, springing to
his feet, went at once to the window at the rear of the room, which
stood partly open, and raising it to its full extent, looked out. The
others heard him give utterance to a low whi