"Well, speak!" cried M. Formery; and he sank gasping on to a chair.

"Ah, well, she's here," said Guerchard.

"Here! How did she GET here?" said M. Formery.

"On a mattress," said Guerchard.

M. Formery sat upright, almost beside himself, glaring furiously at
Guerchard:

"What do you stand there pulling all our legs for?" he almost
howled.

"Look here," said Guerchard.

He walked across the room to the fireplace, pushed the chairs which
stood bound together on the hearth-rug to one side of the fireplace,
and ran the heavy fire-screen on its casters to the other side of
it, revealing to their gaze the wide, old-fashioned fireplace
itself. The iron brazier which held the coals had been moved into
the corner, and a mattress lay on the floor of the fireplace. On the
mattress lay the figure of a big, middle-aged woman, half-dressed.
There was a yellow gag in her mouth; and her hands and feet were
bound together with blue cords.

"She is sleeping soundly," said Guerchard. He stooped and picked up
a handkerchief, and smelt it. "There's the handkerchief they
chloroformed her with. It still smells of chloroform."