"Well, first to allow of the going backwards and forwards between Gertrude and her accomplices . . . and then, one day, one day soon, of the kidnapping, or rather the total, miraculous, incomprehensible disappearance of Mrs. Kesselbach."
They proceeded cautiously, so as not to knock against certain beams which did not look over-safe. It at once became evident that the tunnel was much longer than the fifty yards at most that separated the house from the boundary of the garden. It must, therefore, end at a fair distance from the walls and beyond the road that skirted the property.
"We are not going in the direction of Villeneuve and the lake are we?" asked Gourel.
"Not at all, the other way about," declared M. Lenormand.
The tunnel descended with a gentle slope. There was a step, then another; and they veered toward the right. They at once knocked up against a door which was fitted into a rubble frame, carefully cemented. M. Lenormand pushed it and it opened.
"One second, Gourel," he said, stopping. "Let us think. . . . It might perhaps be wiser to turn back."
"Why?"
"We must reflect that Ribeira will have foreseen the danger and presume that he has taken his precautions, in case the underground passage should be discovered. Now he knows that we are on his track. He knows that we are searching the garden. He no doubt saw us enter the house. How do I know that he is not at this moment laying a trap for us?"
"There are two of us, chief. . . ."
"And suppose there were twenty of them?"