Mason went toward the front kitchen. Grenier did not care about being left alone, face to face with the pallid and naked form in the chair, but he set his teeth and repressed the tendency to rush after his confederate.
The latter, in returning, halted an instant.
"Hello!" he cried. "Here's his hat."
After placing the lamp on the table beside the mirror, he went back to the passage.
Grenier was so busy with the making-up process that he did not notice what his companion was doing. His bent form shrouded the light, and Mason placed the hat carelessly on a chair. He chanced to hold it by an uninjured part of the rim, and never thought of examining it.
At last Grenier declared himself satisfied.
"What do you think of the result?" he demanded, facing about so that the other could see both Anson and himself.
"First-rate. It would deceive his own mother."
A terrific rat-tat sounded on the outer door.
A direct summons to the infernal regions could not have startled both men more thoroughly. Grenier, with the protecting make-up on forehead and cheeks, only showed his terror in his glistening eyes and palsied frame. Mason, whom nothing could daunt, was, nevertheless, spellbound with surprise.