“By the same door as that through which you had seen the skirt pass?”
“No, by the other. My brother went back to his berth, but I paused in the corridor to finish my cigarette after the train had gone on. By this time every one but myself had returned to his berth, and I was on the point of lying down again for half an hour, when I distinctly heard the handle turned of the compartment I knew to be vacant all through the run.”
“That was the one with berths 11 and 12?”
“Probably. It was next to the Countess. Not only was the handle turned, but the door partly opened—”
“It was not the porter?”
“Oh, no, he was in his seat,—you know it, at the end of the car,—sound asleep, snoring; I could hear him.”
“Did any one come out of the vacant compartment?”
“No; but I was almost certain, I believe I could swear that I saw the same skirt, just the hem of it, a black skirt, sway forward beyond the door, just for a second. Then all at once the door was closed again fast.”
“What did you conclude from this? Or did you think nothing of it?”
“I thought very little. I supposed it was that the maid wished to be near her mistress as we were approaching Paris, and I had heard from the Countess that the porter had made many difficulties. But you see, after what has happened, that there was a reason for stopping the train.”