"Pardieu!" he said. "It is Mrs. Leroux that I have found!"
A moment he stood looking from trap to trap; then turned and surveyed
again the impassable walls, the rows of works, few of which were
European, some of them bound in vellum, some in pigskin, and one row of
huge volumes, ten in number, on the bottom shelf, in crocodile hide.
"It is weird, this!" he muttered, "nightmare!"--turning the light from
row to row. "How is this lamp lighted that swings here?"
He began to search for the switch, and, even before he found it, had
made up his mind that, once discovered, it would not only enable him
more fully to illuminate the library, but would constitute a valuable
clue.
At last he found it, situated at the back of one of the shelves, and set
above a row of four small books, so that it could readily be reached by
inserting the hand.
He flooded the place with light; and perceived at a glance that a length
of white flex crossing the ceiling enabled anyone seated at the table
to ignite the lamp from there also. Then, replacing his torch in his
pocket, and assuring himself that the iron bar lay within easy reach, he
began deliberately to remove all of the books from the shelves covering
that side of the room upon which the switch was situated.
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