Lépine bounded up the stairs, and Pigot followed in silence. He felt that he had been used unjustly; after all, he was not a wizard—what did the Chief expect!
At the top of the house, Lépine glanced first into the narrow room which we have already seen; then he returned to the landing and opened the other door. It led into a still narrower room, also extending to the front of the house, and lighted by a single window. Lépine went to the window and looked out. Over the roof of the low market across the way, he could see the harbour, the warships, and the wreck of La Liberté. Then he turned to an examination of the room.
A heavy box stood before the window, and on the floor beside it were three large batteries. Some pieces of copper wire were lying about, but there was nothing else. In the top of the box, however, four holes had been bored, as though for the reception of bolts, and one side of the box was badly burned. The sill of the window was also scorched and blistered.
"You have the proprietor of this house?" Lépine inquired.
"He is below," Pigot announced, and went to fetch him.
But from the proprietor, a nervous little man with a dirty beard, Lépine learned little. He lived at the rear of the ground floor, and ten days or perhaps two weeks before, a man had knocked at the door and asked if the upper floor was to rent.
"What sort of man?" Lépine inquired.
"A dark man, with white hair, sir; not a bad-looking man, but not a Frenchman."
"A German, perhaps."
"No, most certainly not a German; an Italian or a Spaniard."