The Frenchman crossed the threshold of the window as the young man called to him.
“I have been on the look-out for spies,” he said.
“Have you seen any one?”
“No; I fancy it was a false alarm.”
“Come, then,” said Launcelot Darrell, “we have been luckier than I thought we should be.”
“Hadn’t you better unlock that door before we leave?” asked Monsieur Bourdon, pointing to the door which communicated with the other part of the house. Launcelot had locked it on first entering the study, and had thus secured himself from any surprise in that direction. The two men were going away when Monsieur Bourdon stopped suddenly.
“You’ve forgotten something, my friend,” he whispered, laying his hand on Launcelot’s shoulder.
“What?”
“The will, the genuine will,” answered the Frenchman, pointing to the chair. “It would be a clever thing to leave that behind, eh!”
Launcelot started, and put his hand to his forehead.