And, pausing, he fixed his cruel, relentless eyes, beady and brilliant as those of a snake, upon his trembling victim.
She did not answer, though she now realised that he held her future in his remorseless hands. This man whom she had once loved with a strong, all-consuming passion, had risen to smite her and to ruin her.
“Will Bracondale be at home to-night?” he asked presently.
“No,” she responded in a low whisper. “He will be at his club. He has arranged to play bridge with M. Polivin, the Minister of Commerce. You won’t see him.”
“Good. Then you will be alone—to meet me and take the letter in exchange for the pearls, which I shall take,” he said, confidently. “I had a look around the house early this morning before anyone was about. It would be very easy to enter there—quite inviting, I assure you. I wonder you don’t take precautions against intruders. I speak as an expert,” and he laughed grimly.
But she made no response.
“I notice,” he went on—“I notice that the room on the left of the front entrance is a small salon. It has a long window leading to the balcony. Leave that unlatched, and I will come there at midnight. If you are there, leave the light on. If there is danger then put it out. I shall know.”
“But I can’t—I won’t.”
“You will! You want that letter, and I will give it to you in exchange for the pearls! He will suspect nothing. A thief got in and stole them. That was all. He is rich, and will buy you another set. So why trouble further?”
“No—I——”