But, as it turned out, there was no question of surprise. While David was prepared for anything—to shoot at the man, to knock him to the ground with his fist, to rush over towards the door and bang upon it—Spolikoff sidled up to him, and spoke in a whisper that almost cloaked his foreign accent.
'That you, Admiral?' he asked. 'They've passed again, those policemen; but I didn't signal. There's no need; no one can see the glare now. You've pulled the curtain round so well.'
David nodded. He was wondering whether he could trust himself to answer the fellow, for it was obvious that his own identity was not even suspected. Then, emboldened by that fact, he answered the man in a hoarse whisper.
'I came along out here to make sure. It's fine, ain't it? Them police couldn't suspect that we'd got a hot flame going against the safe. Look here, my boy, Henricksen wants you to go along up to Ovanovitch and give him a hand. When you've cleared the jewels, get away up to the next floor. He says some new furs came in yesterday, and you could carry away in your arms enough to keep you for a year. Get along quick.'
The Russian looked at him for a moment as if he suspected, though, as a matter of fact, he was merely puzzling to translate the meaning of the words, for as yet he was not an excellent English scholar.
'Get along up and help Ovanovitch, yes,' he repeated. 'Then—I did not follow—you said?'
'S-s-sh! The police!'
There came a sudden rattle at the letter-box, whereat both he and the Russian sank promptly to the ground, while David imagined that a faint light over by the office lessened. Then there was silence again. A heavy footfall was heard on the pavement, and after it, silence once more. Slowly he and the Russian rose to their feet.
'What was it?' asked the man. 'You said I was to help Ovanovitch.'
'Listen,' whispered David, speaking very plainly, 'help Ovanovitch with the jewels.'