It occurred to me that he would be more likely to leave the city in the Florina than by any other conveyance. He could sail in her when he pleased, and cover up his tracks very effectually. I promptly decided to visit the mouth of the river, where he kept his boat, and see if she was there. In the excitement of the morning, I had almost forgotten the treasure which Mrs. Whippleton had committed to my charge. I had put it into a drawer in the safe which was not in use. I had locked the drawer, and put the key with the others. I had sealed up the package, and written my own name upon it, so that I had no fear it would be taken by the junior partner. But he had exhibited a new phase of character on this eventful day, and I trembled as I unlocked the drawer. My fears were realized. The package was gone. Mr. Whippleton had taken it.
This was a serious catastrophe.
I felt like sinking through the floor when I realized the loss. If it had been my own I should have felt better. It was a sacred trust confided to me, and I reproached myself for putting it into the safe. Under ordinary circumstances, however, it would have been secure there. The treasure had been given to me in order to keep it from him into whose possession it had now fallen.
"What's the matter, Phil?" asked Robert, when he saw my grief and chagrin.
"I have lost a valuable package," I replied.
"Was it done up in white paper?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Whippleton took it from one of the drawers, and put it in his pocket."
"Did he open it?" I asked.
"No; not here."