He set the child on the ground and came back to her. He was covered with sweat.
"The envelope," he said once more.
She explained:
"In the entrance vault ... in this end of it, opening into this place ... a little ball on the ground, among the pebbles."
He called one of his confederates and repeated the information to him. The man went off, running.
"It was time!" muttered the ruffian, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Look you, you shouldn't provoke me. And then why that air of defiance?" he added, as if Dorothy's coolness shamed him. "Damn it all! Lower your eyes! Am I not master here? Master of your friends ... master of you ... yes, of you."
He repeated this word two or three times, almost to himself and with a look which made Dorothy uneasy. But, hearing his confederate, he turned and called to him sharply.
"Well?"
"Here it is."
"You're sure? You're sure? Ah, here we are. This is the real victory."