As he went upstairs, he again heard the same sound and, stopping to listen, he caught these words, uttered in a hoarse, groaning voice, which came, beyond a doubt, from the pantry:
“Help!... Murder!... Help!... I shall be killed!... Inform the commissary!”
“The fellow’s clean off his chump!” muttered Lupin. “By Jove!... To disturb the police at nine o’clock in the evening: there’s a notion for you!”
He set to work again. It took longer than he expected, for they discovered in the cupboards all sorts of valuable knick-knacks which it would have been very wrong to disdain and, on the other hand, Vaucheray and Gilbert were going about their investigations with signs of laboured concentration that nonplussed him.
At long last, he lost his patience:
“That will do!” he said. “We’re not going to spoil the whole job and keep the motor waiting for the sake of the few odd bits that remain. I’m taking the boat.”
They were now by the waterside and Lupin went down the steps. Gilbert held him back:
“I say, governor, we want one more look round five minutes, no longer.”
“But what for, dash it all?”
“Well, it’s like this: we were told of an old reliquary, something stunning....”