"Thank you! That's a perfect cigar. And now let's have a chat, shall we?"
Rudolf Kesselbach listened to him in amazement. Who could this strange person be? . . . Still, at the sight of his visitor sitting there so quiet and so chatty, he became gradually reassured and began to think that the situation might come to an end without any need to resort to violence or brute force.
He took out a pocket-book, opened it, displayed a respectable bundle of bank-notes and asked:
The other looked at him with an air of bewilderment, as though he found a difficulty in understanding what Kesselbach meant. Then, after a moment, he called:
"Marco!"
The man with the revolver stepped forward.
"Marco, this gentleman is good enough to offer you a few bits of paper for your young woman. Take them, Marco."
Still aiming his revolver with his right hand, Marco put out his left, took the notes and withdrew.
"Now that this question is settled according to your wishes," resumed the stranger, "let us come to the object of my visit. I will be brief and to the point. I want two things. In the first place, a little black morocco pocket-case, shaped like an envelope, which you generally carry on you. Secondly, a small ebony box, which was in that traveling-bag yesterday. Let us proceed in order. The morocco case?"