Marchand turned in his chair and stared at Oscar, the serving man. In this way he was gaining the testimony of two men, for he was observing every expression on Oscar’s face as well as listening to Willis.
Willis knew this. It increased his anxiety. He chose his words carefully to make every detail in his story accurate.
“When you went away, Mister Marchand,” said Willis, “Oscar and I obeyed all your instructions. I performed my duties as your secretary. Oscar attended to his duties as servant. One of us was always in the house.
“One week ago tonight”—the young man glanced at an old-fashioned clock on the mantelpiece—”almost at this very time, just before midnight, Oscar tapped at the door of my room, where I was working.
“He whispered to me, sir, and said that he had heard a noise downstairs. We went down together and searched the house thoroughly. There was no one here.
“I believed that Oscar had been deceived by a noise outside. He finally was inclined to believe same as I did.”
Oscar nodded slightly as Willis paused.
“Two nights ago,” continued the secretary, “Oscar again knocked at my door, after I had retired. He seized my arm when I came into the hallway.
“We listened. Both of us heard slight sounds from the front of the house—”
“From my room?” questioned Marchand.