It was like a dream to me to think that this tall, white woman was thelady of the house, and that she was lending me a hand to rob her ownhome. I could have burst out laughing at the thought of it, and yetthere was something in that pale face of hers which stopped my laughterand turned me cold and serious. She swept on in front of me like aspirit, with the green taper in her hand, and I walked behind with mysack until we came to a door at the end of this museum. It was locked,but the key was in it, and she led me through.
The room beyond was a small one, hung all round with curtains which hadpictures on them. It was the hunting of a deer that was painted on it,as I remember, and in the flicker of that light you’d have sworn thatthe dogs and the horses were streaming round the walls. The only otherthing in the room was a row of cases made of walnut, with brassornaments. They had glass tops, and beneath this glass I saw the longlines of those gold medals, some of them as big as a plate and half aninch thick, all resting upon red velvet and glowing and gleaming in thedarkness. My fingers were just itching to be at them, and I slipped myknife under the lock of one of the cases to wrench it open.
“Wait a moment,” said she, laying her hand upon my arm. “You might dobetter than this.”
“I am very well satisfied, ma’am,” said I, “and much obliged to yourLadyship for kind assistance.”
“You can do better,” she repeated. “Would not golden sovereigns be worthmore to you than these things?”
“Why, yes,” said I. “That’s best of all.”
“Well,” said she. “He sleeps just above our head. It is but one shortstaircase. There is a tin box with money enough to fill this bag underhis bed.”
“How can I get it without waking him?”
“What matter if he does wake?” She looked very hard at me as she spoke.“You could keep him from calling out.”
“No, no, ma’am, I’ll have none of that.”
“Just as you like,” said she. “I thought that you were a stout-heartedsort of man by your appearance, but I see that I made a mistake. If youare afraid to run the risk of one old man, then of course you cannothave the gold which is under his bed. You are the best judge of your ownbusiness, but I should think that you would do better at some othertrade.”
“I’ll not have murder on my conscience.”
“You could overpower him without harming him. I never said anything ofmurder. The money lies under the bed. But if you are faint-hearted, itis better that you should not attempt it.”
She worked upon me so, partly with her scorn and partly with this moneythat she held before my eyes, that I believe I should have yielded andtaken my chances upstairs, ha
d it not been that I saw her eyes followingthe struggle within me in such a crafty, malignant fashion, that it wasevident she was bent upon making me the tool of her revenge, and thatshe would leave me no choice but to do the old man an injury or to becaptured by him. She felt suddenly that she was giving herself away, andshe changed her face to a kindly, friendly smile, but it was too late,for I had had my warning.
“I will not go upstairs,” said I. “I have all I want here.”
She looked her contempt at me, and there never was a face which couldlook it plainer.
“Very good. You can take these medals. I should be glad if you wouldbegin at this end. I suppose they will all be the same value when melteddown, but these are the ones which are the rarest, and, therefore, themost precious to him. It is not necessary to break the locks. If youpress that brass knob you will find that there is a secret spring. So!Take that small one first—it is the very apple of his eye.”
She had opened one of the cases, and the beautiful things all layexposed before me. I had my hand upon the one which she had pointed out,when suddenly a change came over her face, and she held up one finger asa warning. “Hist!” she whispered. “What is that?”
Far away in the silence of the house we heard a low, dragging, shufflingsound, and the distant tread of feet. She closed and fastened the casein an instant.
“It’s my husband!” she whispered. “All right. Don’t be alarmed. I’llarrange it. Here! Quick, behind the tapestry!”
She pushed me behind the painted curtains upon the wall, my emptyleather bag still in my hand. Then she took her taper and walked quicklyinto the room from which we had come. From where I stood I could see herthrough the open door.
“Is that you, Robert?” she cried.
The light of a candle shone through the door of the museum, and theshuffling steps came nearer and nearer. Then I saw a face in thedoorway, a great, heavy face, all lines and creases, with a huge curvingnose, and a pair of gold glasses fixed across it. He had to throw hishead back to see through the glasses, and that great nose thrust out infront of him like the beak of some sort of fowl. He was a big man, verytall and burly, so that in his loose dressing-gown his figure seemed tofill up the whole doorway. He had a pile of grey, curling hair all roundhis head, but his face was clean-shaven. His mouth was thin and smalland prim, hidden away under his long, masterful nose. He stood there,holding the candle in front of him, and looking at his wife with aqueer, malicious gleam in his eyes. It only needed that one look to tellme that he was as fond of her as she was of him.
“How’s this?” he asked. “Some new tantrum? What do you mean by wanderingabout the house? Why don’t you go to bed?”
“I could not sleep,” she answered. She spoke languidly and wearily. Ifshe was an actress once, she had not forgotten her calling.
“Might I suggest,” said he, in the same mocking kind of voice, “that agood conscience is an excellent aid to sleep?”
“That cannot be true,” she answered, “for you sleep very well.”
“I have only one thing in my life to be ashamed of,” said he, and hishair bristled up with anger until he looked like an old cockatoo. “Youknow best what that is. It is a mistake which has brought its ownpunishment with it.”
“To me as well as to you. Remember that!”