to understand that from the
previous time you examined the floor until the time that you noted three
more nails drawn out, no other person could have entered the dining-room
but you and your step-daughter Natacha."

Matrena took Rouletabille's hand as though she had reached an important
decision.

"My little friend," moaned she, "there are things I am not able to think
about and which I can no longer entertain when Natacha embraces me. It
is a mystery more frightful than all else. Koupriane tells me that he is
sure, absolutely sure, of the agents he kept here; my sole consolation,
do you see, my little friend can tell you frankly, now that you have
sent away those men--my sole consolation since that day has been that
Koupriane is less sure of his men than I am of Natacha."

She broke down and sobbed.

When she was calmed, she looked for Rouletabille, and could not
find him. Then she wiped her eyes, picked up her dark-lantern, and,
furtively, crept to her post beside the general.

For that day these are the points in Rouletabille's notebook:

"Topography: Villa surrounded by a large garden on three sides. The
fourth side gives directly onto a wooded field that stretches to the
river Neva. On this side the level of the ground is much lower, so
low that the sole window opening in that wall (the window of Natacha's
sitting-room on the ground-floor) is as high from the ground as though
it were on the next floor in any other part of the house. This window is
closed by iron shutters, fastened inside by a bar of iron.

"Friends: Athanase Georgevitch, Ivan Petrovitch, Thaddeus the
timber-merchant (peat boots), Michael and Boris (fine shoes). Matrena,
sincere love, blundering heroism. Natacha unknown. Against Natacha:
Never there during the attacks. At Moscow at the time of the bomb in
the sleigh, no one knows where she was, and it is she who should have
accompanied the general (detail furnished by Koupriane that Matrena
generously kept back). The night of the bouquet is the only night
Natacha has slept away from the house. Coincidence of the disappearance
of the nails and the presence all alone on the ground-floor of Natacha,
in case, of course, Matrena did not pull them out herself. For Natacha:
Her eyes when she looks at her father."

And this bizarre phrase:

"We mustn't be rash. This evening I have not yet spoken to Matrena
Petrovna about the little hat-pin. That little hat-pin is the greatest
relief of my life."