"Fastened?" murmured Jeanne, seized with fear. "Fastened, and by whom?"

Serge did not answer. The idea that Cayrol had done it came to his mind
at once. The husband lying in wait, had seen him enter, and to prevent
his escaping from his vengeance had cut off all means of retreating.

Silently, they went upstairs again, into the room through the dressing-
room. Jeanne took off her bonnet and cloak, and sank into an armchair.

"I must get away!" said Serge, with suppressed rage; and he walked
toward the door of the gallery.

"No! don't open that," cried Jeanne, excitedly.

And with a frightened look, she added:

"What if he were behind the door?"

At the same moment, as if Jeanne's voice had indeed evoked Cayrol, a
heavy step was heard approaching along the gallery, a hand tried to open
the bolted door. Serge and Jeanne remained motionless, waiting.

"Jeanne!" called the voice of Cayrol from the outside, sounding
mournfully in the silence, "Jeanne, open!"

And with his fist he knocked imperatively on the woodwork.

"I know you are there! Open, I say!" he cried, with increasing rage.
"If you don't open the door, I'll--"