districts.

"Come along; I'll take you in the car. Your men can trot along
beside us," said the Duke to the inspector.

He slipped into the car, the inspector jumped in and took the seat
beside him, and they started. They went slowly, to allow the two
policemen to keep up with them. Indeed, the car could not have made
any great pace, for the tyre of the off hind-wheel was punctured and
deflated.

In three minutes they came to the Gournay-Martin house, a wide-
fronted mass of undistinguished masonry, in an undistinguished row
of exactly the same pattern. There were no signs that any one was
living in it. Blinds were drawn, shutters were up over all the
windows, upper and lower. No smoke came from any of its chimneys,
though indeed it was full early for that.

Pulling a bunch of keys from his pocket, the Duke ran up the steps.
The inspector followed him. The Duke looked at the bunch, picked out
the latch-key, and fitted it into the lock. It did not open it. He
drew it out and tried another key and another. The door remained
locked.

"Let me, your Grace," said the inspector. "I'm more used to it. I
shall be quicker."

The Duke handed the keys to him, and, one after another, the
inspector fitted them into the lock. It was useless. None of them
opened the door.