Neither man spoke as they made a noiseless tour of the room. “The Eel” carried a capacious sack of black material, and into it thrust what knick-knacks seemed to be of value—several miniatures, a couple of gold snuff-boxes, a small box of Limoges enamel, and the like, while “The American” was busy with his skeleton keys at the drawers of the big writing-table.
Suddenly he beckoned to Adolphe, and the latter, as he approached, saw that he had succeeded in opening one of the small drawers. Within was a secret cavity known to the thief, for he had twice watched the German spy take money from it.
There was a spring at the back of the drawer, and as “The Eel” directed the rays of light inside, his companion fingered it, with the result that of a sudden a portion of the wood fell back and from within the other drew out a large bundle of French thousand-franc notes secured by an elastic band.
With a low whistle Ansell, with gloating eyes, slipped them into his breast pocket.
Then, diving his hand in again, he drew out several handsome bracelets set with diamonds and emeralds, two strings of matched pearls, a diamond and platinum pendant, a muff-chain set with diamonds, and a child’s coral necklace—the jewellery belonging to the Baron’s dead wife and his little daughter—which he kept concealed there—a relic of a long-past domestic happiness.
With scarce a glance at the valuables, the thief thrust them into his pocket.
Eagerly they cleared the secret space behind the back of the drawer. There were three other bank-notes lying loose, about twenty golden louis, two ruby rings, and lastly a safe-key, which Ralph held up in triumph, whispering:
“What about the Baron’s secret correspondence—eh?”
“Where’s the safe?” asked his companion.