So this was the reason why Alfred Fluette must needs help himself to Genevieve's patrimony. That rapacious monster, the Wheat Pit, had exhausted all of his legitimate resources, and so mad was his obsession that he scrupled not to steal.
I entertained only hard feelings for him at that moment. He had not bought the ruby, however, and doubtless Genevieve's fortune was still intact.
"Go on," I commanded curtly. "What happened then?"
"Well, Maillot's arrival demoralized everything. Fluette was to come at ten o'clock, and Tshen at ten-thirty. I did n't know what to do. I had no way of getting them word at that time of night, and I soon realized that Page had given over the trip. I contrived, however, to smuggle all of them up to my room, without anybody being the wiser.
"I explained the state of affairs, and assured them that I would fulfil my part of the agreement as soon as Page and Maillot retired and the house grew quiet.
"Some time after eleven I heard Page and Maillot coming up-stairs. The light was out in my room, and, peering through the crack of my door, I watched Page bid Maillot good-night. The old man was holding a lighted candle in one hand and the small leather box in the other. I know it was the ruby he showed Maillot—"
"I suppose you were in the curtained alcove while he and Maillot were talking," I interrupted.
"Not all the time; I didn't dare be. The old man was as sharp as a fox. He didn't trust anybody.
"However, I carried out my part of the programme, all right; but just as I reached the top of the stairs I felt the magnetism of somebody's presence. I looked back and saw Page—he looked positively diabolical—following me. How he enjoyed catching anybody in such a predicament!"
"And then?"