Grace watched him intently, hardly daring to breathe for fear he might hear her. An hour passed, and the air in the closet became close and hot. She felt so nervous that she could have screamed, when the door of the room suddenly opened and Durand appeared.
The two greeted each other with a nod. "Where have you been?" the older man demanded, somewhat angrily.
"I had to get a new battery." He took a short black cylinder from his pocket and laid it on the table.
"Is the boy here?"
"Yes."
"Good! Now listen to your instructions." He lowered his voice, glancing swiftly toward the closed door of the room. "At eight o'clock I shall go to the banker's house and get the money. At eight fifteen, or a little before, François will get his signal and repeat to you. If he flashes the blue light, you will release the boy, leave the room, lock the door, and go at once to the Place du Trocadero. From the little tobacco shop you will telephone the address of this place—No. 42, isn't it?—to Monsieur Stapleton. That will be about half past eight. Do not telephone before that. Then wait for me in front of the shop. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly. And if I get the red signal?"
"In that event, do not release the boy, but lock the door and come to the tobacco shop, as before. I will communicate with you there. Old Martelle is perfectly safe. But I do not think there will be any trouble. You will get the blue light."
"I am. This man Stapleton is not going to take any more chances. Once I am in the automobile, I am safe."