‘Monsieur Glazer, there will be no occasion to inconvenience you by detaining your own goods. Whatever you will describe as yours, shall be at once made over to you on your signature.’
‘You are very good,’ replied Philippe; ‘but everything belonging to us, in the care of this poor gentleman, was of little consequence. There is, however, that little cabinet, which may be returned to its owner, who is most anxious to have it. It has been earnestly claimed by the Marchioness of Brinvilliers.’
‘The Marchioness of Brinvilliers!’ exclaimed Desgrais with some emphasis. ‘And you say she was anxious to carry it away?’
‘Just as I have told you; in fact her solicitude was remarkable.’
Desgrais was silent for a minute.
‘Stop!’ at length he said; ‘we will examine this cabinet that appears so precious. I have reasons for it.’
By his directions Pierre Frater took down the inlaid box from its shelf, Maître Picard being too short, and placed it on the table. The others collected eagerly round, especially Lachaussée, who at the first mention of it had left his seat. Sainte-Croix’s keys were discovered in one of the drawers of the table, and Desgrais, selecting one of curiously-wrought steel, applied it to the lock. The lid instantly flew open.
‘Here is a false top,’ said Desgrais, ‘with a written paper lying open upon it. Let us see what it says.’
And taking the document, he read as follows:—
‘“I humbly ask of those into whose hands this cabinet may fall, whoever they may be, to deliver it to the Marchioness of Brinvilliers, at present living in the Rue Neuve St. Paul; since its contents are of importance to her alone, and her welfare apart, cannot be of the slightest interest to any one in the world. Should she have died before me, let the cabinet be burnt, exactly as it is, without opening it or disturbing its contents.”