"
"And when does he come home?"
"Before daybreak."
Captain Baumgarten rasped out a German oath. He had had his journey for
nothing, then. The man's answers were only too likely to be true. It
was what he might have expected. But at least he would search the house
and make sure. Leaving a picket at the front door and another at the
back, the sergeant and he drove the trembling butler in front of them--
his shaking candle sending strange, flickering shadows over the old
tapestries and the low, oak-raftered ceilings. They searched the whole
house, from the huge stone-flagged kitchen below to the dining-hall on
the second floor, with its gallery for musicians, and its panelling
black with age, but nowhere was there a living creature. Up above, in
an attic, they found Marie, the elderly wife of the butler; but the
owner kept no other servants, and of his own presence there was no
trace.
It was long, however, before Captain Baumgarten had satisfied himself
upon the point. It was a difficult house to search. Thin stairs, which
only one man could ascend at a time, connected lines of tortuous
corridors. The walls were so thick that each room was cut off from its
neighbour. Huge fireplaces yawned in each, while the windows were 6ft.
deep in the wall.
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