“Shut it again!” cried Mme. Fauvel, frightened at the incomprehensible result of Raoul’s attempt: “Come away! Don’t touch anything, for Heaven’s sake! Raoul!”
And, half frenzied, she clung to Raoul’s arm, and pulled him away so abruptly, that the key was dragged from the lock, and, slipping along the glossy varnish of the safe-door, made a deep scratch some inches long.
But at a glance Raoul discovered, on the upper shelf of the safe, three bundles of bank-notes. He snatched them up with his left hand, and slipped them inside his vest.
Exhausted by the effort she had just made, Mme. Fauvel dropped Raoul’s arm, and, almost fainting with emotion, clung to the back of a chair.
“Have mercy, Raoul!” she moaned. “I implore you to put back that money and I solemnly swear that I will give you twice as much to-morrow. Oh, my son, have pity upon your unhappy mother!”
He paid no attention to these words of entreaty, but carefully examined the scratch on the safe. He was alarmed at this trace of the robbery, which it was impossible for him to cover up.
“At least you will not take all,” said Mme. Fauvel; “just keep enough to save yourself, and put back the rest.”
“What good would that do? The discovery will be made that the safe has been opened; so I might as well take all as a part.”
“Oh, no! not at all. I can account to Andre; I will tell him I had a pressing need for a certain sum, and opened the safe to get it.”
In the meantime Raoul had carefully closed the safe.