"I wonder where he's got to?" Gerald observed presently. "Surely he isn't such an idiot as to resume play!"
"No. He's well enough aware that there's no luck after dinner," remarked Ulrica. "We might, however, I think, take a last turn through the Rooms and see whether he's there."
This suggestion was carried out, but although we searched every table we failed to discover him. Until ten o'clock we lounged about, then returned by the express to Nice.
That he should have left us in that abrupt manner was certainly curious; but as Gerald declared he was always erratic in his movements, and that his explanation in the morning would undoubtedly be found entirely satisfactory, we returned together to the hotel, where we wished our companion good-night, and ascended in the elevator to our own sitting-room on the second floor.
My good fortune pleased me, but my heart was nevertheless overburdened with sorrow. The sight of Ernest had reopened the gaping wound which I had so strenuously striven to heal by the aid of lighter woes. I now thought only of him.
Ulrica, who was in front of me, pushed open the door of our sitting-room and switched on the light, but ere she crossed the threshold she drew back quickly with a loud cry of horror and surprise.
In an instant I was at her side.
"Look!" she gasped, terrified, pointing to the opposite side of the room. "Look!"
The body of a man was lying, face downwards, upon the carpet, half hidden by the round table in the centre of the room.
Together we dashed forward to his assistance and tried to raise him, but were unable. We succeeded, however, in turning him upon his side, and then his white, hard-set features became suddenly revealed.