Daddy Jacques pushed the door open a little further and looked in.
"'He's not there!" he whispered.
"Who is not there?"
"The forest--keeper."
With his lips once more to my ear, he added:
"'Do you know that he has slept in the upper room of the donjon ever
since it was restored?' And with the same gesture he pointed to the
half-open door, the ladder, the terrace, and the windows in the
'off-turning' gallery which, a little while before, I had re-closed.
"What were my thoughts then? I had no time to think. I felt more
than I thought.
"Evidently, I felt, if the forest-keeper is up there in the chamber
(I say, if, because at this moment, apart from the presence of the
ladder and his vacant room, there are no evidences which permit me
even to suspect him)--if he is there, he has been obliged to pass
by the ladder, and the rooms which lie behind his, in his new
lodging, are occupied by the family of the steward and by the cook,
and by the kitchens, which bar the way by the vestibule to the
interior of the chateau. And if he had been there during the evening
on any pretext, it would have been easy for him to go into the
gallery and see that the window could be simply pushed open from
the outside.
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