“What do you mean, blockhead?”

“I mean to say that when I came in, although I had the key of your apartment in my pocket, and that key had never quit me, I found a letter on the green table cover in your bedroom.”

“And where is that letter?”

“I left it where I found it, Monsieur. It is not natural for letters to enter people’s houses in this manner. If the window had been open or even ajar, I should think nothing of it; but, no⁠—all was hermetically sealed. Beware, Monsieur; there is certainly some magic underneath.”

Meanwhile, the young man had darted in to his chamber, and opened the letter. It was from Madame Bonacieux, and was expressed in these terms: