“Aye, aye, flash as much as you will,” rejoined the first man, “but I tell you the Baron is a taller man.”
“Confound your quibbling,” said the second ruffian, “shall we let them go or not? If we stay here much longer, they will take the hint, and march off without our leave. Let them be who they will, they are rich, or why all those servants? Did you see the ring, he, you call the Baron, had on his finger?—it was a diamond; but he has not got it on now: he saw me looking at it, I warrant, and took it off.”
“Aye, and then there is the picture; did you see that? She has not taken that off,” observed the first ruffian, “it hangs at her neck; if it had not sparkled so, I should not have found it out, for it was almost hid by her dress; those are diamonds too, and a rare many of them there must be, to go round such a large picture.”
“But how are we to manage this business?” said the second ruffian: “let us talk of that, there is no fear of there being booty enough, but how are we to secure it?”
“Aye, aye,” said his comrades, “let us talk of that, and remember no time is to be lost.”
“I am still for poison,” observed the third, “but consider their number; why there are nine or ten of them, and armed too; when I saw so many at the gate, I was not for letting them in, you know, nor you either.”
“I thought they might be some of our enemies,” replied the second, “I did not so much mind numbers.”
“But you must mind them now,” rejoined his comrade, “or it will be worse for you. We are not more than six, and how can we master ten by open force? I tell you we must give some of them a dose, and the rest may then be managed.”
“I’ll tell you a better way,” rejoined the other impatiently, “draw closer.”
Blanche, who had listened to this conversation, in an agony, which it would be impossible to describe, could no longer distinguish what was said, for the ruffians now spoke in lowered voices; but the hope, that she might save her friends from the plot, if she could find her way quickly to them, suddenly reanimated her spirits, and lent her strength enough to turn her steps in search of the gallery. Terror, however, and darkness conspired against her, and, having moved a few yards, the feeble light, that issued from the chamber, no longer even contended with the gloom, and, her foot stumbling over a step that crossed the passage, she fell to the ground.