"He's fast asleep," he said to Perenna, who had joined him.
The bedroom was a small one. The air was admitted by a special system of ventilation, for the dormer window was hermetically closed by a wooden shutter tightly nailed down.
"I took the precaution last year," Hippolyte Fauville explained. "I used to make my electrical experiments in this room and was afraid of being spied upon, so I closed the aperture opening on the roof."
And he added in a low voice:
"They have been prowling around me for a long time."
The two men went downstairs again.
Fauville looked at his watch.
"A quarter past ten: bedtime, I am exceedingly tired, and you will excuse me—"
It was arranged that Perenna and Mazeroux should make themselves comfortable in a couple of easy chairs which they carried into the passage between the study and the entrance hall. But, before bidding them good-night, Hippolyte Fauville, who, although greatly excited, had appeared until then to retain his self-control, was seized with a sudden attack of weakness. He uttered a faint cry. Don Luis turned round and saw the sweat pouring like gleaming water down his face and neck, while he shook with fever and anguish.
"What's the matter?" asked Perenna.