"Then you heard no noise at all the whole night?" said M. Formery.
"Oh, yes, sir, we heard noise enough after we'd been gagged," said the concierge.
"Now, this is important," said M. Formery. "What kind of a noise was it?"
"Well, it was a bumping kind of noise," said the concierge. "And there was a noise of footsteps, walking about the room."
"What room? Where did these noises come from?" said M. Formery.
"From the room over our heads—the big drawing-room," said the concierge.
"Didn't you hear any noise of a struggle, as if somebody was being dragged about—no screaming or crying?" said M. Formery.
The concierge and his wife looked at one another with inquiring eyes.
"No, I didn't," said the concierge.
"Neither did I," said his wife.
M. Formery paused. Then he said, "How long have you been in the service of M. Gournay-Martin?"
"A little more than a year," said the concierge.
M. Formery looked at the paper in his hand, frowned, and said severely, "I see you've been convicted twice, my man."
