Juve took a few steps, bent his knees and stretched his arms, tested the suppleness of his body.
"Ah, in spite of my forty-odd years, I'm still pretty fit for ... the work I have to do."
By the aid of the lightning rod, the gutters and the inequalities in the stones, the detective was enabled to climb without much difficulty to the first floor.
There he paused to take breath and to examine the shutters of a window.
"Can't get in that way," he muttered, "they're bolted inside. I'll have to climb higher."
The same condition met him on the second floor, but when he had finally reached the roof, he espied a large chimney which promised a method of ingress to the apartment below. The descent was anything but easy, and Juve, in spite of his great strength and agility, was used up by the time he had reached the bottom. His clothes were torn and he was covered with the greasy soot he had accumulated on his journey. By dint of brushing and scraping, he succeeded in cleaning off the worst of it, and then looked round to take his bearings.
He had landed in the large waiting-room which adjoined the royal apartments.
The distant sound of dance music came to his ears and the atmosphere of the place was cold and damp.
"He doesn't often come here, I'll bet," thought Juve.