He rose. Nobody leapt at his throat. The other was doubtless congratulating himself on the thought of having escaped a danger. He had run the risk of seeing someone turn the key in the lock and enter at the moment when he would be committing his crime.

Henri Létang did not hurry, so as not to attract attention. He went to the door; opened it. Good Heavens! a lot he cared about his key! How he shouted! how strong his voice was!

‘Help! Murder! Come! Run quick!’

Ten people were round him before he had finished shouting. He shouted more than was necessary.

They found the fellow under the bed. They had to drag him out, for he made no movement to facilitate their task. Once on his feet he was pale with two brilliant eyes. Women struck him. The hotel proprietor had never seen him before. The policemen handcuffed him. When they had taken him away, while he was on his way to prison everybody was still trembling.