Godfrey was unable to tell what followed. Ivar's work, whatever its character, was performed in silence, and lasted a considerable time.
More than once Godfrey stole into the vault for the purpose of peering behind the curtain, but on each occasion he did not get beyond the table, the fear of detection restraining him from proceeding farther.
Then, moved by a sudden impulse, he took out his penknife, and turning to the alcove nearest the door, he quickly and silently cut off a corner from the velvet drapery.
"This may be of service," he thought, thrusting the fragment inside his pocket, "if at any time it should become necessary to prove that I have stood in the secret funeral vault of the Ravengars."
Ivar's task was evidently coming to an end, for the coffin-lid was now drawn from beneath the curtain into the alcove, and the peculiar sounds caused by the application of the screw-driver recommenced.
With their cessation Ivar reappeared from behind the curtain, wearing his taper-lit hat again, and dragging the chest, which, judged by the effort required for its removal, was in no way diminished from its former weight—a circumstance which puzzled Godfrey not a little.
He was preparing for flight, but as Ivar had seated himself in the chair again, he was tempted to linger a moment.
"Thank the devil that's over," said the viscount in a tone of satisfaction, "and I hope Lorelie will be satisfied."
"Lorelie!" murmured Godfrey with a start. "Lorelie! Surely he does not mean Mademoiselle Rivière?"
He had no time just then to consider this question, for Ivar, having drained the few drops that remained in the flask, was now extinguishing the flame in the sconce, preparatory to leaving the crypt.