Chapter 10 - Page 2

returned?" inquired Rouletabille.

"Yes, a long time ago. She ought to be in bed. In any case she is
pretending to be abed. The light from her chamber, in the window
over the garden, has been put out."

"Have you warned Matrena Petrovna?"

"Yes, I have let her know that she must keep on the sharp look-out
to-night."

"That's a mistake. I shouldn't have told her anything. She will
take such extra precautions that the others will be instantly
warned."

"I have told her she should not go to the ground-floor at all this
night, and that she must not leave the general's chamber."

"That is perfect, if she will obey you."

"You see I have profited by all your information. I have followed
your instructions. The road from the Krestowsky is under
surveillance."

"Perhaps too much. How are you planning?"

"We will let them enter. I don't know whom I have to deal with.
I want to strike a sure blow. I shall take him in the act. No more
doubt after this, you trust me."

"Adieu."

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. I have paid my debt to my host. I have the right to some
repose now. Good luck!"

But Koupriane had seized his hand.

"Listen."

With a little attention they detected a light stroke on the water.
If a boat was moving at this time for this bank of the Neva and
wished to remain hidden, the right moment had certainly been chosen.
A great black cloud covered the moon; the wind was light. The boat
would have time to get from one bank to the other without being
discovered. Rouletabille waited no longer. On all-fours he ran
like a beast, rapidly and silently, and rose behind the wall of the
villa, where he made a turn, reached the gate, aroused the dvornicks
and demanded Ermolai, who opened the gate for him.

"The Barinia?" he said.

Ermolai pointed his finger to the bedroom floor.

"Caracho!"

Rouletabille was already across the garden and had hoisted himself
by his fingers to the window of Natacha's chamber, where he listened.
He plainly heard Natacha walking about in the dark chamber. He fell
back lightly onto his feet, mounted the veranda steps and opened the
door, then closed it so lightly that Ermolai, who watched him from
outside not two feet away, did not hear the slightest grinding of
the hinges. Inside the villa Rouletabille advanced on tiptoe. He
found the door of the drawing-room open. The door of the
sitting-room had not been closed, or else had been reopened. He
turned in his tracks, felt in the dark for a chair and sat down,
with his hand on his revolver in his pocket, waiting for the events
that would not delay long now. Above he heard distinctly from time
to time the