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which instinct inspired even in his distraction.
Having exhausted calls and cries, nothing was left but to break in.
"I must enter the house," he said to himself; "but how?"
He broke a pane of glass in Govicum's room by thrusting his hand through
it, tearing the flesh; he drew the bolt of the sash and opened the
window. Perceiving that his sword was in the way, he tore it off
angrily, scabbard, blade, and belt, and flung it on the pavement. Then
he raised himself by the inequalities in the wall, and though the window
was narrow, he was able to pass through it. He entered the inn.
Govicum's bed, dimly visible in its nook, was there; but Govicum was not
in it. If Govicum was not in his bed, it was evident that Nicless could
not be in his.
The whole house was dark. He felt in that shadowy interior the
mysterious immobility of emptiness, and that vague fear which
signifies--"There is no one here."
Gwynplaine, convulsed with anxiety, crossed the lower room, knocking
against the tables, upsetting the earthenware, throwing down the
benches, sweeping against the jugs, and, striding over the furniture,
reached the door leading into the court, and broke it open with one blow
from his knee, which sprung the lock. The door turned on its hinges. He
looked into the court. The Green Box was no longer there.
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