“The roof everywhere overlaps the verandah,” answered the sergeant, “and no ladder is necessary to get out of these windows to the ground. It appears to me of a length suited to reach the ceiling. Come, show me any trapdoor through which I can reach the loft over the rooms. You forgot, my friend, that part of the house.”
“A trapdoor in the ceiling! What a strange thought of yours!” exclaimed François. “However, perhaps you will find it, should one exist, that you may be satisfied on that point, and let one of your men take the ladder, for I am old, and it would fatigue me to carry it.”
One of the gendarmes took up the ladder, and he could be heard knocking at the ceiling in various directions. Still Rayner hoped that they would not discover the dark corner, which François evidently had no intention to show them.
“It must be found somewhere or other,” he heard the sergeant say. “This ladder is exactly suited to reach it.”
At last he entered the room where the ladies were seated.
“Will madame have the goodness to tell me whereabouts the trapdoor is that leads to the roof?” he asked.
“The trapdoor leading to the roof!” repeated Madame La Roche. “It is not likely that an old woman, as I am, would have scrambled up there, or my delicate daughters either. Surely, Monsieur Sergeant, you are laughing at me.”
The sergeant turned away, but presently one of the men exclaimed, “I have found it! I have found it—here, up in this corner!”
Rayner heard the men ascending, the trap was lifted, but he and his companions lay perfectly still, hoping that in the darkness they might not be perceived.
But the gendarme, after waiting a few seconds to accustom his eyes to the dim light, began groping about until he caught hold of Tom’s leg. Tom, dreadfully frightened, cried out in English, “Oh, dear; he’s got me!”