see. Come in."

Then he caught sight of Sabatier and trembled a little. He was an old
man, and had been oppressed so long that he had become used to it. He
understood very little of what was going forward in the country.

"Where are the aristocrats?" hissed a dozen raucous voices.

"Those guests of yours," said Sabatier.

"They have gone--went soon after you left last night. It was a surprise,
but I had no power to stop them."

There was an angry movement toward the landlord.

"Wait," said Sabatier. "He is probably a liar. We shall see."

The men searched the house, some watching the doors lest the aristocrats
should make a dash for freedom. Certainly there was a guest here still,
but he made no effort to escape. At the top of the stairs was a
door--locked.

"The key," Sabatier demanded.

"I will fetch it," was the timid answer.

The locked door was suspicious. Two men ran hastily to watch the window
and prevent escape that way. And why delay for the key? Not a very
strong lock this, a blow from a man's heel could break it, did break it,
and the door crashed open, splitting itself from one of its hinges.