Two hours passed. He heard the dull sound of a horse's hoofs and the tinkling of a collar-bell. A carriage stopped, the front door slammed and almost immediately he heard voices, exclamations, a regular outcry that increased, probably, as each of the prisoners was released from his gag.
"They are explaining the thing to him," he thought. "The baron must be in a tearing rage. He now understands the reason for my conduct at the club to-night and sees that I have dished him nicely. . . . Dished? That depends. . . . After all, I haven't got Steinweg yet. . . . That is the first thing that he will want to know: did they get Steinweg? To find this out, he will go straight to the hiding-place. If he goes up, it means that the hiding-place is upstairs. If he goes down, then it is in the basement."
He listened. The sound of voices continued in the rooms on the ground floor, but it did not seem as if any one were moving. Altenheim must be cross-examining his confederates. It was half an hour before Sernine heard steps mounting the staircase.
"Then it must be upstairs," he said to himself. "But why did they wait so long?"
"Go to bed, all of you," said Altenheim's voice.
The baron entered his room with one of his men and shut the door:
"And I am going to bed, too, Dominique. We should be no further if we sat arguing all night."
"My opinion is," said the other, "that he came to fetch Steinweg."
"That is my opinion, too; and that's why I'm really enjoying myself, seeing that Steinweg isn't here."
"But where is he, after all? What have you done with him?"