Greenwood full well understood the meaning of this note without a signature; and its contents tended to augment that happiness which the success of his schemes infused into his breast.
Hour after hour passed away;—at length midnight sounded; and all the servants, save Lafleur, were dismissed to their sleeping apartments.
The cigars, the rum-punch, and the pleasurable reflections into which the financier plunged, made the time elapse rapidly. One o'clock struck; and he had not found a single moment tedious. He was not anxious, nor a prey to suspense, as other men would have been; he felt certain that his wishes would be accomplished, and he was therefore as composed as if he had already been assured of their success.
The clock struck two; and a low knock was heard at the front door. Lafleur answered the summons; and in a few moments introduced the Cracksman to the room where his master was sitting.
"All right, sir," said that worthy, the moment Lafleur had withdrawn.
"And no violence, I hope?" cried Greenwood.
"Not a bit," returned the Cracksman. "We was as gentle as lambs. We on'y pitched the small boy into a dry ditch that was by the side of the road; and as for the gentleman, I just tapped him over the head with the butt of a pistol to keep him quiet; but I did it myself to make sure that it wasn't done too hard."
"You surely have not murdered him?" said Greenwood, his whole countenance suddenly convulsed with horror.
"Don't be afeard; he was on'y stunned—you may take my word for that," returned the Cracksman, coolly. "But here's all the papers we found in his pocket; and as for his purse—it had but a few pounds in it."
Mr. Greenwood received the papers from the hands of the Cracksman, and observed with a glance that amongst them was the document which he had given a few hours previously to guarantee the safety of the fifteen thousand pounds placed in his hands by Count Alteroni.