"That is Mr. Delora's room," he said softly. "Perhaps you had better let me be sure that he is awake."
"You need not trouble," the other answered. "If he is asleep I shall wake him. If he is awake he will know very well that there is no escaping me."
He turned away from Louis. His hand was already outstretched toward the handle of my door. Then I saw Louis snatch the Malacca cane from its place and swing it behind his body. He was already poised for the blow—a blow which would have killed any man breathing—when I sprang to the ground and flung open the door.
"Look out!" I cried.
The newcomer sprang on one side. Louis, disturbed by my cry, lost his nerve, and the blow fell upon a small side table, smashing it through, and sending splinters flying into the air. Both men looked at me in the blankest of amazement. I came out into the sitting-room.
"You coward!" I said to Louis.
He shrank back against the wall. He still held the stick in his hand, but he showed not a sign of fight. The other man stood with clenched fists, as though about to spring upon him, but I stepped between them.
"In the first place," I said to the newcomer, "you had better look into that room. You will see that Mr. Delora is not there. I can assure you, from my own knowledge, that he has never been there. When you have finished, come back and tell me what you want with him."
Louis was still staring at me in amazement. The idea that I had discovered his attempt to make a cat's-paw of me was dawning upon him slowly, but knowing nothing of the transept, he could not account for my unexpected appearance. For once, at any rate, he had lost his nerve. I could see that he was shaking with fear.
"Come, Louis," I said, "put my stick down and talk like a man, if you can."