The officer pushed open the half-closed door--the candelabra burnt on the dressing-table--coats and linen were strewed about--the room was empty.
"Don't play any foolish tricks, Herr Schmidt," said the officer, looking towards the big cupboard, whose door stood partly open.
But he no longer believed in a joke, as after having hastily glanced into the open cupboard, he threw the light of the candelabra right and left over the hangings, which were leather coloured to represent wood. No trace of a door! And yet there must be one! There, at last! This scarcely perceptible crack, where the darker stripes of the hangings met the lighter wainscoting--wonderfully done!--and here below, hardly visible, the tiny lock. Herr Müller pushed and kicked against the door, only to discover that it was made of iron and would defy his utmost efforts. He rushed out of the dressing-room into the bedroom--the door into the anteroom was locked! There, close to the handle, was the same lock as that on the concealed door, no bigger than the key-hole in the dial plate of a clock. He was a prisoner!
The infuriated officer threw open the window, and called as loudly as he could to his men, of whom two should be in the courtyard. But on the other side the fiddles squeaked and the violoncellos growled, and below the horses stamped and the coachmen shouted and laughed. No one heard the cries from above, until in his despair he took the first thing that came to hand and flung it through the glass, so that the fragments fell upon the heads of a pair of fiery horses, which, frightened out of their wits, reared and backed, driving the carriage into another one behind them, which rolling back again made the horses of a third recoil. In the midst of the frightful confusion and the tremendous noise that ensued, the shouts of the officer were overpowered, until at last one of the policemen remarked them, but without being able to understand a word his superior said. Nevertheless, he hurried out of the court into the vaulted passage which, running on the right side of the building and round behind the court, connected the latter with the street, and was used for the exit of the carriages, those coming in entering on the opposite side, to tell his comrades who were posted there that something had happened, and that they must be on their guard. He had done so in a few breathless words, and was in the act of running back, when from one or other of the doors opening into the passage, two servants rushed out, one an elderly man, who seemed to be trembling from head to foot with excitement, and one younger and very tall who nearly ran into his arms. The policeman connected the hurry of these servants with what had just occurred, and he was confirmed in this opinion by the fact of his remarking at the same moment, that a narrow, steep stone staircase led up from the door which the servants had in their haste left open.
"What has happened upstairs?" cried the policeman.
"Herr Schmidt has had a fit of apoplexy," answered the tall servant. "I am going for the doctor, do not detain me. Here is the Inspector's card."
"All right!" said the policeman, throwing a glance at the card. "Let him pass. He is going for the doctor. How can I get upstairs?"
"Straight up these steps," was the breathless reply.
"Then be off with you!"
The man rushed breathlessly to the exit past the policeman, who willingly made way for him, ran to the string of cabs which stood before the house, only carriages being allowed inside the courtyard, and sprang into the end one, calling to the driver to go as quickly as possible; he should be well paid. It was a matter of life and death!