in a prettily furnished corridor from which the staircase and one
door led out.

The, four men tiptoed up the stairway and the commissioner stepped
to the first of the two doors which opened onto the upper corridor.
He turned the key which was in the lock, and opened the door, but
they found themselves in a room as dark as was the corridor. From
somewhere, however, a ray of light fell into the blackness. The
official stepped into the room, pulling Berner in after him. The
poor old man was in a state of trembling excitement when he found
himself in the house where his beloved young lady might already be
a corpse. One step more and a smothered cry broke from his lips.
The commissioner had opened the door of an adjoining room, which
was lighted and handsomely furnished. Only the heavy iron bars
across the closed windows showed that the young lady who sat leaning
back wearily in an arm-chair was a prisoner.

She looked up as they entered. The expression of utter despair and
deep weariness which had rested on her pale face changed to a look
of terror; then she saw that it was not her would-be murderer who
was entering, but those who came to rescue. A bright flush illumined
her cheeks and her eyes gleamed. But the change was too sudden for
her tortured soul. She rose from her chair, then sank fainting to
the floor.

Berner threw himself on his knees beside her, sobbing out, "She is
dying! She is dying!"

Muller turned on the instant, for he had heard the door on the other
side of the hall open, and a tall slender man with a smooth face