"It's me. Don't trouble. And be sure not to light the candle."
Mademoiselle Zoé as she lay in her bed turned her face to the wall and thought to herself: "What a madman the governor is! He's going to make another trip over the rain pipes. One fine day Madame will find him out, and it's poor Zoé who will suffer."
Suddenly she propped herself up on her elbow.
"But you know very well that you can't come in. Madame has the key."
"I tell you to turn your face to the wall," whispered the voice on the landing.
And Zoé at once heard Hilaire "rummaging" with the lock. It was not long in the doing. Zoé herself was quite astonished. She had no idea that Hilaire possessed such a nice talent in locks.
The door opened and two men entered the room. Turn her face to the wall as she might, Mademoiselle Zoé none the less found means of satisfying her curiosity, thanks to a pale moonbeam which pierced the curtain.
Her master was by this time standing at the window, which he opened with the greatest caution and without the slightest sound. He beckoned to the man who was with him, and himself led the way on to the roof where the man followed him.
"There," thought Zoé, "he's got a friend with him to-night. What's the meaning of it? Who is the man? Where does he come from? Where's he going to?"
Young Sarah-Zoé had too great a relish for intrigue not to be interested in the highest degree in the man. She had by now slipped her little feet out of the bed-clothes when the door was once again opened and a huge dark form appeared. She gave a cry of fright. But the dark form had already thrust her back on to the bed.