Two hundred yards farther stood the dilapidated two–storeyed building of the Manoir–au–Puits. The principal door was open.
"Let's go in," said the sergeant.
And, the moment he had crossed the threshold, he muttered:
"Oho! Old de Gorne made a mistake in not coming. They've been fighting in here."
The big room was in disorder. Two shattered chairs, the overturned table and much broken glass and china bore witness to the violence of the struggle. The tall clock, lying on the ground, had stopped at twenty past eleven.
With the farm–girl showing them the way, they ran up to the first floor. Neither Mathias nor his wife was there. But the door of their bedroom had been broken down with a hammer which they discovered under the bed.
Rénine and the sergeant went downstairs again. The living–r
