Dehra nodded indifferently. “So it has.... Shut the vault door.” Then motioned to him in dismissal.
“It’s of small consequence,” she remarked to Armand, as she gave the combination a twirl, “the box is of little use without the Book.”
As she turned away, her glance fell on the big portrait of her father that hung high on the opposite wall—and of a sudden the reaction came, and the tears started, and her lips twitched. She reached out her hand appealingly to Armand. In silence, he put his arm around her and led her quickly from the room.
VI
THE REWARD OF A MEDDLER
When Ferdinand of Lotzen left the Council, he passed leisurely down the corridor toward one of the private exits. The pressing business that was demanding his immediate attention seemed to bother him no longer, and he even took the trouble to acknowledge the salute of the guard who paced before the main stairway; whereat the man stared after him in unfeigned surprise, until the Duke, suddenly looking back, caught him in the act—and with a frown sent him to the about-face and the far end of his beat.
So no one saw His Highness step quickly over and try the door of the King’s library, and, when it opened to him—as he had anticipated it would, the Princess having come that way to the Council—go in and close it softly behind him. Dropping the lock, he went to the door of the private cabinet (which was between the library and the room used for the Council meetings) and listened. Hearing nothing, he opened it very cautiously and peered inside; no one was there and he fixed the door a bit ajar, so as to be warned if anyone entered from the Council.
The library was a large room, paneled ceiling and sides in wood painted an ivory white; the great, wide windows were half hidden by the Gobelin blue tapestries that hung in folds to the floor; heavy bookcases of carved mahogany lined the walls; the furniture was of the massive Empire style, but the desk was a big, oblong, flat-topped affair that had been made over Frederick’s own design—and which more than compensated in utility for what it lacked in artistry. It pleased its owner and so fulfilled its mission. It stood a little way back from the center of the room, the great crystal chandelier above its outer edge, and all the doors directly in focus of the revolving chair behind it.
It was to this chair that the Duke went and began hurriedly to go through the papers on the desk, yet taking the utmost care not to disturb their arrangement, and replacing them exactly as he found them. Evidently whatever he was seeking was of the sort that needed no examination to prove it, for he passed over letters and written documents without a glance at their contents. It was not on the desk and he began on the drawers, none of which was locked. One after another was searched without success, and the Duke’s brow went blacker and blacker, until, as the last proved barren, he flung himself into the chair, and again ran over the documents on top—and again without finding what he sought.
“It was only a chance,” he muttered, sending his glance around the room, “only a feeble chance;... ‘He was blotting a page as I entered,’ was what she said ... and if it were a fresh blotter it might tell the story.” He went over to the vault, the front of which was painted white and paneled to correspond to the walls, and tried the door.... “Locked, of course——”
Suddenly he turned toward the King’s cabinet, listening; then sprang quickly behind one of the window curtains; and its swaying had not ceased when the Princess and Armand entered, on their return from the Council.