"A shocking habit you have of blushing, James Finny," the little man would say as he toddled away.
And all the time the new footman was trying to find out where the Order of the Lion and the Sun was kept.
It was the 12th before he ascertained that it was in one of three despatch boxes kept in a bookcase in the library.
The Burglars' meeting took place on the 13th. He must purloin it before then—that very night, if possible.
At five o'clock the Vizier was taken ill.
"Some of Parker's leavin's, I'll be bound," said Mr. Bradshaw. "Same symtims. Looks all right, and talks despairin' of pains an' shivers. Won't have a doctor, neither. If the Wizzer pipes out, Finny, your preshus cousin'll be responsible."
At 8 p.m. the Prince and his suite, with the exception of the invalid Vizier, set out for the Alhambra and supper at the Carlton. Mr. Marvell, as usual, followed closely in their wake.
At nine o'clock James Finny was off duty. "Now or never," he thought. He watched his opportunity, and then, unperceived, entered the library, and there hid himself behind a curtain, intending to wait till the household was asleep, and then to open the despatch box from his bunch of skeleton keys. He had been there perhaps half an hour when the door opened, and, to his amazement, the Vizier entered. He was followed by a servant bringing coffee and cigarettes. There were cups for two.
The minutes passed slowly. The Vizier looked impatiently at the clock, then strode up to one of the windows, pulled back the heavy curtain, raised the blind, and looked out. Rivers' pulses quickened. What if the Vizier were to come to his window?
"Ha!" exclaimed the Persian, replacing the curtain, and resuming his seat.