The hall was now deserted; from the left wing of the house, on the floor above, the heavy footsteps of the soldiers and Merlin's occasional brutish laugh could be distinctly heard.
Juliette listened for a moment, trying to understand what was happening.
Yes; they had all gone to Deroulede's bedroom, which was on the extreme left, at the end of the first-floor landing.

There might be just time to accomplish what she had now resolved to do.
As best she could, she hid the bulky leather case in the folds of her skirt.

It was literally neck or nothing now.

If she were caught on the stairs by one of the men nothing could save her or--possibly--Deroulede.
At any rate, by remaining where she was, by leaving the events to shape themselves, discovery was absolutely certain.

She chose to take the risk.
She slipped noiselessly out of the room and up the great oak stairs.
Merlin and his men, busy with their search in Deroulede's bedroom, took no heed of what was going on behind them; Juliette arrived on the landing, and turned sharply to her right, running noiselessly along the thick Aubusson carpet, and thence quickly to her own room.
All this had taken less than a minute to accomplish.