“Yes! I shall have to insist that the candlesticks remain in my charge until I hear definitely from you or Madame Demidoff herself, that she wishes them handed over to you.”
“And in the meanwhile?”
“I promise you faithfully that no one shall even touch them; you shall yourself see the parcel locked in my desk, and I shall be delighted to give them up to you, as soon as I am satisfied that Madame Demidoff has no objection to my doing so.”
Iván reflected a moment. In his mind there at once arose the idea that chance would certainly favour him, once he actually had the candlesticks in his hands; he had but to press the spring while the police were searching another part of the room, and he could, he felt sure, extract the papers unperceived. There were so many eventualities that might happen, between the time when the candlesticks were found and the moment when Baron de Hermansthal would finally turn the key of his desk on them; so many opportunities, any one of which would find him on the alert. His hesitation, therefore, lasted but a moment; the next, he had assured the amiable baron that he would strictly adhere to his instructions, and was quite willing to wait for Madame Demidoff’s decision, once his fears, that the candlesticks might be too much tampered with, had been allayed.
“In the name of his Eminence,” he added diplomatically, “I thank your Excellency for your courtesy in the matter.”
“Pray say no more,” replied Baron de Hermansthal, as he touched the bell in order to give the necessary instructions.
“Tell Sergeant Meyer I wish to speak to him,” he said to his valet.
“It is very late,” he added, looking at his watch; “nearly eight o’clock, but that is no matter, as no doubt you will find the woman has gone out on her nightly errands and left you the coast clear.”
A discreet rap at the door and the sergeant appeared, saluting his chief.
“Meyer,” said his Excellency, “do I understand that the woman Grete Ottlinger has, so far, not been caught trying to sell the stolen property?”