He stood transfixed.

“That we shall see,” said Hanaud.

He stepped in Perrichet’s footsteps to the sill of the room.  He examined the green wooden doors which opened outwards, and the glass doors which opened inwards, taking a magnifying-glass from his pocket.  He called Besnard to his side.

“See!” he said, pointing to the woodwork.

“Finger-marks!” asked Besnard eagerly.

“Yes; of hands in gloves,” returned Hanaud.  “We shall learn nothing from these marks except that the assassins knew their trade.”

Then he stooped down to the sill, where some traces of steps were visible.  He rose with a gesture of resignation.

“Rubber shoes,” he said, and so stepped into the room, followed by Wethermill and the others.  They found themselves in a small recess which was panelled with wood painted white, and here and there delicately carved into festoons of flowers.  The recess ended in an arch, supported by two slender pillars, and on the inner side of the arch thick curtains of pink silk were hung.  These were drawn back carelessly, and through the opening between them the party looked down the length of the room beyond.  They passed within.

CHAPTER V

IN THE SALON

Julius Ricardo pushed aside the curtains with a thrill of excitement.  He found himself standing within a small oblong room which was prettily, even daintily, furnished.  On his left, close by the recess, was a small fireplace with the ashes of a burnt-out fire in the grate.  Beyond the grate a long settee covered in pink damask, with a crumpled cushion at each end, stood a foot or two away from the wall, and beyond the settee the door of the room opened into the hall.  At the end a long mirror was let into the panelling, and a writing-table stood by the mirror.  On the right were the three windows, and between the two nearest to Mr. Ricardo was the switch of the electric light.  A chandelier hung from the ceiling, an electric lamp stood upon the writing-table, a couple of electric candles on the mantel-shelf.  A round satinwood table stood under the windows, with three chairs about it, of which one was overturned, one was placed with its back to the electric switch, and the third on the opposite side facing it.

Ricardo could hardly believe that he stood actually upon the spot where, within twelve hours, a cruel and sinister tragedy had taken place.  There was so little disorder.  The three windows on his right showed him the blue sunlit sky and a glimpse of flowers and trees; behind him the glass doors stood open to the lawn, where birds piped cheerfully and the trees murmured of summer.  But he saw Hanaud stepping quickly from place to place, with an extraordinary lightness of step for so big a man, obviously engrossed, obviously reading here and there some detail, some custom of the inhabitants of that room.