"On, for the corridor!" said Lorin. They opened the door at the farther end, which was not more firmly secured than the first, and found themselves fronting the door of the Chevalier's chamber. Maurice had seen this door twenty times before, and never thought of inquiring where it led to. All his world was centred in the room where he was received by Geneviève.
"Oh! oh!" said Lorin, in a low voice, "here we must change our tactics; no more keys, and the door locked."
"Are you," asked Maurice, hardly able to articulate, "sure that he is here?"
"If our plan is correct, he ought to be here," replied the police agent; "besides, we shall soon see. Gendarmes, force open the door; and you, citizens, hold yourselves in readiness, and the instant the door is opened, dash into the chamber!"
Four men, selected by the emissary of police, raised the butt-ends of their muskets, and on a signal from the man who conducted this enterprise, gave one blow all together, when the door flew into a thousand fragments.
"Surrender, or you are a dead man!" cried Lorin, rushing into the chamber.
No one replied, and the curtains of the bed were closely drawn.
"Mind the bed!" said the emissary of police; "at the first movement of the curtains, fire!"
"Wait!" said Maurice, "I will open them."
And no doubt in the hope that the Chevalier de Maison-Rouge might be concealed behind them, and that it would be his lot to meet the first stab or pistol shot, Maurice hastily pulled apart the curtains, which, creaking along the iron rod, left the tenantless bed exposed to view.