“To hide it, monsieur—until I could replace it in the box.”—The reward was dwindling marvellously fast.
“Then you stole the Laws of the Dalbergs?”
Adolph did not answer.... It was queer how chilly the room had got. It had seemed warm enough, a moment ago.
The Duke regarded him meditatively.
“Come,” he said presently; “tell me how you managed it. My time is short—speak up.”
The valet slunk a furtive look at his face; it was expressionlessly pitiless.—The reward had disappeared.
“Your Highness will believe me?” he asked.
“Believe you, Adolph! surely—a valet never lies! Go on.”
The man gulped—ran his tongue over his lips—gulped again—then began, his voice husky, full of quavers and sudden stops; while the Duke, with steady gaze and searching eye, drove him on as with a lash.
“Your Highness heard my story to the Council,” said Adolph; “all of it was true except as to the last time I saw the Book of Laws.... I happened to witness the scene between Her Royal Highness and the King. It was just as she related it, monsieur. When she had gone, His Majesty sat, doing nothing—and presently he dropped asleep.... I came to the room a number of times, and always that Book stared at me, and my curiosity as to the decree grew hotter every minute. After a while, the King awoke and told me to put the Book in the box and return it to its place in the vault—then he went over to the sideboard and poured out a drink.... Here, monsieur, was my opportunity—I laid the Book in the box and lowered the lid, but slipped in an envelope to prevent it locking, then put it in the vault—which the King himself closed. After he had retired, I opened the vault and got out the Book——”