“Because Dom Miguel suddenly developed inventive genius on his own part. I was absent when the work was completed, and too late I discovered that de Pintra had made pockets everywhere between the steel plates, and filled every pocket with nitro-glycerine.”
“Well?”
“That is all. To drill into the vault is to explode a pocket of nitro-glycerine, which in turn will explode all the other pockets through concussion.”
“And then?”
“And then the contents of the vault would be blown to atoms. Of the mansion itself not one stone would remain upon another. The records we seek would be lost irrevocably.”
Valcour, pale with fear, uttered a cry and dashed through the door, while the Emperor rose to his feet with a look of terror upon his face.
“They are drilling now!” he gasped.
Silently we stood, none daring to move; and into our drawn faces Piexoto gazed with a grim and derisive smile.
Paolo, more composed than any of the others, except Piexoto, began rolling a cigarette, but remembering the Emperor’s presence he ceased.
And so we stood, motionless and silent, until footsteps were again heard and Valcour re-entered wiping the perspiration from his forehead with an embroidered handkerchief. His face wore a look of relief, but there was a slight tremor in his voice as he said: