I'll find out myself."
I mounted to the upper deck, and knocked at the door of 375. There was
no response. After a moment, I tried the door, but it was locked. The
window, however, was partly open, and, shading my eyes with my hands,
I peered inside. The stateroom was empty.
A kind of panic seized me as I turned away. Had he, indeed, seen
through my artifice? In attempting to blind him, had I merely
uncovered my own plan? Or--and my cheeks burned at the thought!--was
he so well intrenched that he had no fear of me? Were his plans so
well laid that it mattered not to him whither I went or what I did?
After all, I had no assurance of success at Etretat--no proof that the
fugitives had gone there--no reasonable grounds to believe that we
should find them. Perhaps, indeed, Paris would be a better place to
look for them; perhaps Martigny's advice had really been well meant.
I passed a moment of heart-rending uncertainty; I saw quite clearly
what a little, little chance of success we had. But I shook the
feeling off, sought the lower deck, and inquired again for Martigny.
At last, the ship's doctor told me that he had seen the sick man
safely to a carriage, and had heard him order the driver to proceed to
the Hotel Continental.
"And, frankly, Mr. Lester," added the doctor, "I am glad to be so well
rid of him.
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