“To leave it at that!” he thought, disconsolately regarding the safe. “Why it would be easier than picking periwinkles with a pin.”
However, he remembered the hundred pounds and forbore. Honour among thieves.
Passing the hall-door presently, he saw a policeman in discussion with the porter.
“Well, goodnight,” said that officer to his gossip; “and keep your eyeballs skinned.”
The next day Mr Colfox was both surprised and gratified to receive a second visit from his virtuoso client.
“I thought you’d think better of it, sir,” he said. “These Lerroux’s are not to be picked up for the asking.”
“Let me see the bust again, if you please,” said Gilead. His heart was beating a little as the moneylender approached and exposed the safe. He was concerned and relieved in one to observe that it showed no signs of its baking. Mr Colfox opened the door, uttered a sharp exclamation, and fell back a step. But he was too astute a rascal to betray the cause of his agitation. The next moment he had produced the bust, and swung to the door upon his secret.
But not quickly enough for the observant eyes that had followed him. In that moment Gilead had seen the hand, or rather what remained of it—and it was sunk into just a shapeless pancake of wax upon the floor of the safe.
Colfox’s face was a little white, and his lips a little shaky, as he placed the bust on the table.
“There it is, sir,” he said, “and the offer stands.”