“Soon after twelve. Will you ring up again? Tell Sir Charles that I will at once tell my husband when he returns,” she said, and then rang off.
Meanwhile a dark figure, which had stealthily crept along the road, entered the gate and stole noiselessly over the grass to the verandah.
The man had been watching the house for an hour past, and, as though with sudden resolution, he made up his mind to enter.
At first he seemed fearful of discovery. Indeed, for a full half-hour had he lurked motionless beneath a tree, waiting, and, though there was complete silence in that still, oppressive night, yet he appeared to hesitate.
All the rooms on the ground floor were in darkness save for the study, the curtains of which were only half-closed. Therefore, as he approached the house, he saw Lady Bracondale alone, speaking into the telephone.
Suddenly, with an agile movement, he scaled the verandah, and a few seconds later, without making a sound, he stood before the window against the entrance porch—the window of the little salon which Jean had indicated where the pearls would be. His movements betrayed that he was an expert at moving without making a sound.
Bending, the dark figure, still moving stealthily, crept up to the long window upon which there suddenly flashed a small zone of white light from an electric pocket-lamp, revealing the fact that, though the heavy curtain was drawn, the window was ajar.
For a few seconds the man listened. Then, having reassured himself that there was no one in the room, he slowly pushed back the curtain and peered into the darkness.
Suddenly he heard a footstep and, dropping the curtain instantly, stood in the darkness, quite motionless.