The second key which Miss Fluette had held was the one, and I had the bolt shot in a jiffy. Genevieve ran straight to me and threw herself into my arms.
Whatever it was she meant to say in her first overjoyed transport, remained unsaid; for I unceremoniously clapped a hand over her mouth, picked her up and carried her bodily back into the room, and slammed the door upon the gaping servants.
"They don't know," I said. "Go up-stairs to Belle; she has fainted. The explosion was accidental, and no one was hurt." I was still holding her close in my arms. "God bless you!" I whispered at her ear. And then—
Well, even the exigencies of a memoir do not require that I should set down what occurred then. Genevieve, her cheeks aflame, broke from my embrace and ran out of the room. I heard her light steps upon the stairs, and then the door to the room which had come near being the scene of a tragedy, opened and closed.
CHAPTER XX
GENEVIEVE'S MISSION
Almost at once a summons came from the up-stairs room for Miss Belle's maid. The rest of the servants were dismissed, and Genevieve signalled over the balusters for me to wait.
A very old man, cheerfully garrulous, who announced that he was the butler, took me downstairs.
"The drawing-room—living-room—or if you're of a mind to smoke, sir, Mr. Fluette's study." He indicated each of the rooms mentioned with a little flourish of the hand.