It proved a lucky step. I had just lain down under them when the door opened and a man came out.
I recognized him as the more reckless of the couple who had been at Ziegler's with the Baron on the night of the murder.
The light from the door enabled me to see more of the place. The room from which he came was at the end farthest from the stairs by which I had come up; and between that and the stairs there was another door. I judged that there were two offices each communicating with the big warehouse and probably with one another.
This discovery was to prove of much value a little later on.
"Hush!" called some one from the room at the noise he made.
"To the devil with your hushing," he muttered with an oath. "Who's to hear?" and he opened the door leading to the stairway and went down.
I had had ample proof of his recklessness before; and I knew that if there were any others like him in the company, my life would not be worth a pinch of snuff should they discover me. I lay as still as the sacks which covered me, therefore.
Those in the room were of a much more cautious nature, however, than the fellow who had just left them; and, although they spoke together, their tones were so low that I could not make out what they said. Occasionally a single word would reach me; but I listened in vain for any indication that the Baron was among them.
In my eagerness to ascertain what was being said I was about to risk crawling to the door when I heard the man returning, and soon learnt then why the door leading to the wharf had been left open.
"Not a sign of them," he said, as he entered, to the others. "I expect the plan has missed fire. If I thought he was still fooling us, I'd shoot the old fool off hand." He left the door wide open, and I could hear distinctly.