"I thank monsieur; but what need to consider me? It's my duty. And what is one interruption more or less? All night they come and go…."
"Good night, monsieur," Lanyard cut short the old man's garrulity; and went on up the stairs, now a little wearily, of a sudden newly conscious of his vast and enervating fatigue.
He thought longingly of bed, yawned involuntarily and, reaching his door, fumbled the key in a most unprofessional way; there were weights upon his eyelids, a heaviness in his brain….
But the key met with no resistance from the wards; and in a trice, appreciating this fact, Lanyard was wide-awake again.
No question but that he had locked the door securely, on leaving after his adventure with the charming somnambulist….
Had she, then, taken a whim to his room?
Or was this but proof of what he had anticipated in the beginning—a bit of sleuthing on the part of Roddy?
He entertained little doubt as to the correctness of this latter surmise, as he threw the door open and stepped into the room, his first action being to grasp the electric switch and twist it smartly.
But no light answered.
"Hello!" he exclaimed softly, remembering that the lights could readily have been turned off at the bulbs. "What's the good of that?"