And Coucon began to tear up the carpet, and then to sound the boards.
"Above," he said, looking up, "are the bath rooms, and I think we had best begin by pulling down the hangings on the wall."
"Oh! that is wicked!"
It was of no use to argue, the Zouave had made up his mind, and he ripped off the silk as if it had been old cotton. Madame, fired by his example, went to work also. While they were thus frantically busy, the door-bell rang.
"It is Miss Carmen," cried Coucon. "She may be able to tell us something."
He hastened to the door. It was Carmen, as he had supposed.
"My friends," she said, "where is Goutran?"
"I do not know," was the reply.
"I will tell you, then. He, with Monsieur Fanfar are prisoners in this house."
"What did I tell you!" shouted Coucon. "And now, listen—the noise has begun again."