His distress became unbearable; and he knew that behind the door was his mother who had heard everything and was waiting.
What was she doing?
Not a movement, not a shudder, not a breath, not a sigh revealed the presence of a living creature behind that panel.

Could she have run away?
But how?
If she had run away--she must have jumped out of the window into the street.

A shock of terror roused him--so violent and imperious that he drove the door in rather than opened it, and flung himself into the bed-room.
It was apparently empty, lighted by a single candle standing on the chest of drawers.
Jean flew to the window; it was shut and the shutters bolted.

He looked about him, peering into the dark corners with anxious eyes, and he then noticed that the bed-curtains were drawn.

He ran forward and opened them.