WHITEWASH
with a scornful glance at the disturbers of her own rest
"Louder!" said the Russian, shortly.
Still no answer.
"Madame la Comtesse!" called the garçon-de-peine, in discreet tones.
"Madame!" "Madame!" in various keys from the bystanders.
"Try the maid's door," the bonne suggested.
A deputation attacked the two doors further down the hall. No answer.
The party looked at each other.
"They certainly did not go out this evening," the garçon ventured. "The little girl was worse; they had dinner in their rooms. The child was in bed then, for I brought up the tray."
"The keys!" Victoria impatiently demanded. "You are losing time. Go in!"
The keys were produced and fitted to the lock, but not until the whole party had once more invoked the countess to answer. The door was opened slowly, and they entered, preceded by the landlord, vaguely muttering apologies.
The candles lit up a scene of the wildest con-
