This storehouse; in an indiscreet moment; had been left unguarded—unprotected; open to the lustful hand of any lucky individual, like himself, who, dropping in promiscuously, as he had done, could enrich himself and disappear with his prize, swiftly and unobserved, leaving no trace behind him.
Mr. Chewkle broke out into a nervous perspiration, and instantly became active; he groped about for the table, which no doubt had a drawer where the keys of chests containing heaps of gold and notes were deposited.
He found a table, and felt for the coveted drawer.
Then he uttered a roar of fright.
In a corner of the room a light suddenly displayed itself. It shone brightly on the face of Nathan Gomer, grinning hideously at him.
In another moment his eyes were dazzled to blindness by the light being turned full upon his own face.
He heard Nathan, in his strange shrill voice, cry—
“Oh! Chewkle, is it? My good, industrious friend Chewkle come to pay me a visit, to serve me, of course, and himself slightly, perhaps? How do you do, Chewkle?”
Large drops of cold perspiration rolled down that individual’s forehead; he tried to speak, but for the minute he found his voice was gone, and he could only make one or two hoarse sounds in his throat.
Nathan Gomer, who had been lying screwed up in an arm chair, now rose up and lighted a lamp from a bull’s-eye lantern which he had in his hand, and then he motioned to Chewkle to be seated.