The iron box was an old sailor’s tobacco-box, opening and shutting with a spring. It was very tight and rusty. The spring being completely oxidised would not work.
Once more the knife served Gilliatt in a difficulty. A pressure with the point of the blade caused the lid to fly up.
The box was open.
There was nothing inside but pieces of paper.
A little roll of very thin sheets, folded in four, was fitted in the bottom of the box. They were damp, but not injured. The box, hermetically sealed, had preserved them. Gilliatt unfolded them.
They were three bank-notes of one thousand pounds sterling each; making together seventy-five thousand francs.
Gilliatt folded them again, replaced them in the box, taking advantage of the space which remained to add the twenty guineas; and then reclosed the box as well as he could.
Next he examined the girdle.
The leather, which had originally been polished outside, was rough within. Upon this tawny ground some letters had been traced in black thick ink. Gilliatt deciphered them, and read the words, “Sieur Clubin.”