stairway. The little table where the
glass and various phials were placed and which had borne the dangerous
bouquet, was placed near the bed, a little back of it, and nearer the
door. Nothing would have been easier than for someone who could open
the door to stretch an arm and place the infernal machine among the wild
flowers, above all, as could easily be believed, if he had waited
for that treachery until the heavy breathing of the general told them
outside that he was fast asleep, and if, looking through the key-hole,
he had made sure Matrena was occupied in her own chamber. Rouletabille,
at the threshold, glided to one side, out of the line of view from the
hole, and got down on all fours. He crawled toward the door. With his
head to the floor he made sure that the little ordinary pin which he had
placed on guard that evening, stuck in the floor against the door, was
still erect, having thus additional proof that the door had not been
moved. In any other case the pin would have lain flat on the floor. He
crept back, rose to his feet, passed into the dressing-room and, in a
corner, had a rapid conversation in a low voice with Matrena.

"You will go," said he, "and take your mattress into the corner of the
dressing-room where you can still see the door but no one can see you
by looking through the key-hole. Do that quite naturally, and then go
to your rest. I will pass the night on the mattress, and I beg you to
believe that I will be more comfortable there than on a bed of staircase
wood where I spent the night last night, behind the door."

"Yes, but you will fall asleep. I don't wish that."

"What are you thinking, madame?"

"I don't wish it. I don't wish it. I don't wish to quit the door where
the eye is. And since I'm not able to sleep, let me watch."

He did not insist, and they crouched together on the mattress.
Rouletabille was squatted like a tailor at work; but Matrena remained on
all-fours, her jaw out, her eyes fixed, like a bulldog ready to spring.
The minutes passed by in profound silence, broken only by the irregular
breathing and puffing of the general. His face stood out pallid and
tragic on the pillow; his mouth was open and, at times, the lips
moved. There was fear at any moment of nightmare or his awakening.
Unconsciously he threw an arm over toward the table where the glass
of narcotic stood. Then he lay still again and snored lightly. The
night-lamp on the mantelpiece caught queer yellow refl