This time it moved instantly and noiselessly. Moore put his head through the opening and listened;... save for the ticking of a clock, somewhere across the room, there was perfect quiet.... Suddenly it chimed twice; when the last reverberation had died, he stepped carefully inside; the Princess and the others followed.
The library was as dark as the passage; with a touch of warning to the Regent, Moore pressed the torch and flashed the stream of white light around the walls—fortune favored them; the room was unoccupied, and every door was closed. Then the light struck the iron safe, and the Princess, with the faintest exclamation of apprehension, grasped her Adjutant’s arm and pointed at it. If the Book were in it, their visit would be barren; there was neither opportunity nor means to break inside. For the first time, the idea of failure touched her—she had been so full of assurance, so confident that once in the Duke’s library and success was certain. Even when Moore suggested a safe she had waved it aside heedlessly. Her mind had been centered on the desk—that the Book must surely be in it. The light reached the big, flat-topped one in the middle of the room; with a quick spring she was at it, and Moore beside her.
Swiftly they went through the drawers—nothing ... nothing ... nothing ... ah! a bundle in black cloth—she tossed it out and fairly tore loose the strings—a glance was enough—leather—metal hinges—the Book! the Book! at last!
In an agony of delight she flung the cloth around it.
“Come!—come!——”
A shrill whistle—the doors were thrown open wide; in bounded three men, a lighted candelabra in each hand, and behind them a dozen more with rifles leveled. At the same moment, the Duke himself stepped from behind a curtain, and closed the stone into place.
At the whistle, De Coursey, Marsov and old Jessac had sprung to Dehra’s side and, with Moore, ranged themselves around her—and now they stood there, five masked figures, swords drawn, the center of a circle of impending death, every man ready to fling himself upon the guns and chance it, but restrained because of her they were sworn to guard.
AT THE WHISTLE, DE COURSEY, MARSOV AND OLD JESSAC HAD SPRUNG TO DEHRA’S SIDE.
The Duke gave a chuckling laugh.