Then something occurred to her of a sudden. “Sir,” she asked the man, “I have a large picture there, too heavy for me to manage; if it’s not troubling you, will you be so kind as to fix it up on the wall?”—to which the workman agreed readily enough: “With all the pleasure in life,” he assured her, “you know all I ask is to make myself agreeable.”
Elisabeth thanked him drily, almost regretting she had ever asked the favour. The man’s advances rather frightened her; without quite knowing why, the young girl felt suspicious and began to wish the fellow gone as soon as might be. Meantime the workman began to make hay in the room where he was, a sure sign he was going to do something at last. Mademoiselle Dollon withdrew into the adjoining room, shutting the door of communication behind her.
But barely a moment or two had passed since the girl had left the workman to his own devices when she heard a heavy crash followed by a terrific oath from the man’s lips! She dashed to the door and was on the point of re-entering the room where the paper-hanger was at work, when the latter sprang forward and prevented her.
“What now, sir!” she cried, “open the door, I say!”
But from the other side the workman still barred her entrance: “Don’t come in, mademoiselle, don’t come in!”
“But, after all, what’s happening?” she demanded.
“Nothing to do with you, don’t come in!”
“But I insist; the thing’s ridiculous, I’m in my own house, let me in!”
Then she heard the strange occupant of the room whence the mysterious noise had come turn the key in the lock, making any further attempt to force an entrance impossible. Elisabeth was more and more terrified.
“Sir,” she ordered, “I must, I will have this door opened, I wish to know what is the matter, what that noise was.”