The countess was silent for a moment or two.
"He seems as if he were unhappy about something," she said; "as if something were worrying him. I only saw him twice before he came into the title, and though he was by no means 'loud' or effusive, he was bright and cheerful; but now——I noticed the change the moment he came into the Hall on his return. It seems so strange. He had cause for anxiety then, for there was a chance of his losing Angleford; but now one would think he possessed all that a man could desire."
"The vanity of human wishes, my dear!" said Lady Wolfer. "Something may have happened while he was abroad," she suggested in a low voice.
"You mean a love affair? I don't think so."
The countess glanced toward the piano. She felt sure that Drake was about to renew his engagement with Lady Luce, and she deemed him the last man in the world to marry for the sake of "convenience."
Drake moved about the room restlessly, waiting for Luce to rise from the piano; but she was playing a long piece—an interminable one, as it seemed to him. Presently he felt for his pocket handkerchief, and, not finding it, remembered leaving it on the dressing table where Sparling had placed it. He went into the hall to send a servant for it; but there was not one in sight, and he went quickly up the stairs and entered his dressing room. He noticed that most of the electric lights were down, and, disliking the gloom, went toward the row of switches. They were fixed to the wall almost opposite Lady Angleford's dressing room, and as his hand went up to them, he heard a slight sound in the room.
It was a peculiar sound, like the soft bang which is made by the closing of a safe door. For a moment Drake paid no heed to it; then suddenly its significance struck upon him. Lady Angleford was in the drawing-room. Who could be at the safe?
He stepped outside the door, and waited for a second or two, then he opened the door softly, and saw a man rising from his knees in front of the safe. The man turned at the moment and stood with the case of diamonds in his hand—two other cases bulged from his side pockets—his eyes gleaming through his mask.
Now, in fiction the hero who is placed in this position always cries aloud for help, and instantly springs at the burglar; but in real life the element of surprise has to be taken into account; and Drake was too amazed at the moment to fling himself upon the thief. Besides, it is your weak and timid man who immediately cries for help. Drake was neither weak nor timid, and it would not occur to him to shriek for assistance. So the two men stood motionless as statues, and glanced at each other while you could count twenty. Then the burglar whipped a revolver from his pocket and presented it.
"Stand out of my way!" he said gruffly, and disguising his voice, for he knew how easily a voice can become a means of identification. "Better stand out of my way, or, by God! I'll fire!"